Uhtred's Tale
by Not the pope
Summary: This is something i wrote randomly and got a bit carried away with. Its set in Cyrodiil, but ive taken a few liberties with most other aspects. I hope you like it, but if you dont then i dont really care. Chapter 2 now up, enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

The empire had collapsed. No-one was entirely sure why or how, it had just simply happened one day. Chancellor Ocato had disappeared, weather he was dead or alive was a subject of much speculation. The royal coffers were empty, so some said that he had run off with all the gold. Others claimed that it was the work of some especially skilled thief or assassin.

The reality, though, was that it was now very nearly every man for himself. In Cheydinhal and Bravil the counts and guards had been slaughtered and the citizens were in charge. In Cheydinhal it was the Orums, in Bravil it was simply the mob. Leyawiin was under the stewardship of the fighters guild, who had all retreated to their headquarters, and Skingrad was under siege from huge bands of Marauders.

There were only two cities that retained complete control, however. The Imperial city was now under the command of the watch captains, who ran things within the city much the same as before. And in Bruma, the Countess had done an excellent job of holding the citizens together and organising them.

One of her initiatives was that the number of guards be greatly increased. Every male Nord over the age of eighteen was to be armed and under the command of the captain of the guard at all times. That much was simple. The two blacksmiths spent every hour of every day manufacturing weapons and armour, although their supplies were sadly limited. Since there was no longer any trade between cities, they could only use what resources they could find locally, which only included leather, fur, and iron. The smith at _Nord Winds could heat the iron enough to make steel, but this was a slow process. While they could outfit one man a day with iron, it took nearly a week to outfit a man in steel._

_This then resulted in dozens of raw recruits pressed into service with nothing to their name but a shield and a spear. The spears had been another of the Countess's bright ideas, they could be made quickly and were easy to use even for the most inexperienced militiaman. _

_One cold and windy morning, the ageing countess looked out from her window in the castle at her city and thought that she hadn't seen it this energised since the great battle of Bruma over twenty years before. The sound of blacksmiths hammers reverberated around the walls, and in the castle courtyard a guardsman was drilling the raw recruits over and over again. _

_One of these recruits was young Uhtred, who was trying his best to get used to the unwieldy and heavy spear in his hand. Without thinking, he slung the rusty iron shield onto his back so as to hold the spear with both hands, and the guardsman was immediately onto him like a wolf onto a horse. "You trying to get yourself killed, you weedy little inbred?" he screamed, his face inches from Uhtred's. Uhtred shook his head mutely, and the guard grabbed the shield roughly and pushed it into his hands, making him drop the spear._

"_Shield IN FRONT, you dozy little twat. That where the enemy's coming from, not your bloody back. Pick up that damn spear."_

_Uhtred bent down and picked the weapon up, fighting the urge to punch the guardsman on the jaw. As he straightened up, the man was already walking away to shout at somebody else, which gave Uhtred time to try and calm himself down. He knew that there was little to be gained from becoming angry at this time, he would save it for when he could actually do something about it. The tavern later seemed a good idea. _

_His musings were interrupted, however, by more shouting nearby. The guardsman was now addressing all of the new levy, pacing up and down with his sword drawn, looking daggers at each one of the young unfortunates. _

_What he saw was a line of ten young men, all expressing their nervousness in different ways. Some were looking angry, others looked frightened, but most looked resigned to their fate. Inside, he smiled to himself. The angry ones would be the best, he thought. The rest would either learn quickly or die suddenly. If they were scared of him, they stood no chance against a seasoned bandit who wanted to take their guts out for fun. _

"_My name!" he shouted after he had finished his brief assessment of the condemned "Is guardsman Ivar. You will call me SIR. You will do everything I tell you to, learn everything I teach you, and listen to everything I say, and you might actually live to see your families again. You're completely under my control now, which means that if I think you're a liability, or an idler, or if I plain just don't like you, I can kill you and nobody will ask a thing."_

_It was working, he thought. Those who had seemed resigned a few moments ago were beginning to come down on one side of the fence or the other, becoming scared or determined. He continued._

"_The first thing im going to do is to pair you up. That way, if you get killed your family has someone to blame, and if you do something wrong, I get two people to punish. Now."_

_He walked along the line, numbering the recruits. Those who looked angry, he numbered 'one'. Those who looked scared, he numbered 'two'. When he had finished he spoke again. "Right, ones over there, twos over there. Get shifting."_

_Uhtred went with the rest of the number ones over to the appointed area. He couldn't believe his bad luck, getting stuck with a trainer like Ivar. Could he really kill them without consequences? Uhtred didn't think so, but he wasn't entirely sure…_

"_Right!" said Ivar "You with you, you with him, you with that one." he went on, pairing up the wolves with the sheep. Every angry recruit got a scared recruit to look after. "Now, stand with your buddy. Good. You and your buddy will look after each other in every way. You help him, he helps you. You fuck up, he gets punished as well. You get wounded, he looks after you. He wants a hand job, you give him one. Clear? OI! What are you laughing about, scumbag?"_

_Uhtred did his best to stop giggling. He bit his tongue and his lip, he clenched his jaw, but nothing was quite enough. Ivar walked up to him. "Am I amusing you, you clap-ridden son of a whore?"_

"_No Sir."_

"_No sir. Laughing at yourself then, shit for brains?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_You a bit of a looney then?"_

"_No sir."_

"_Don't lie to me son, you're a looney. Why did I get lumbered with the worst bunch of useless pieces of shit in the whole damn city?" he walked off. Uhtred swore under his breath and looked at his 'buddy'. The boy was about the same age as him, but shorter and leaner. He had a fur shield, with a white tunic and short cropped hair. Classic office boy._

_At the same time, Ivar was looking at Uhtred and praising his own luck. The boy was everything a recruiter could hope for. True, he wasn't much to look at in his sack cloth tunic, coarse linen trousers and long blonde hair, but he was big. Certainly the broadest of the bunch, and nearly the tallest. 'Thank Akatosh' Ivar said to himself 'He's sent me a barbarian.'_

"_RIGHT you snivelling bunch of piss-flaps. I might not like it, you might not like it, but im going to train you. Im going to make it so you can look at an enemy without wetting yourself, and then kill him without tripping over your own feet. First we need to get you all as big as looney over there" he pointed to Uhtred "How'd you get so big, looney? Giving rough hand jobs?" Uhtred shook his head. "Farming sir." he grunted._

"_Farming sir? Farming? Shite, ive been given a fucking farmer. Well, since we don't have a fucking farm for looney here to milk bulls on, everyone hold your spears out, sideways, with your arms straight. First man to drop his spear wins a night on the battlements with his buddy. Do it."_

_So Uhtred and the rest stood as still as they could, their arms burning with the effort, for minute after agonising minute. After about five minutes, it was Uhtred's 'buddy's' spear that clattered onto the flagstones. _

"_Well done puny, you and looney get a night on the battlements. Now, you're all going to do some press ups. First one of you to stop gets my boot on his ribs. Go."_

_The rest of the day was more of this. Ivar swore, the recruits grunted, and Uhtred got steadily angrier. Finally, the sky began to darken and Ivar lined the sweating, gasping and aching recruits all up again. "Ok, you see those tents there?" he pointed to five rotting, stinking tents set on the stone flags "That's where you're living. Each of you in a tent with your buddy. Food is over there" he pointed to a nearby house "and ill wake you up bright and early tomorrow for some more fun. There are guards on every gate and every wall, and ive told them what a useless lot of wankers you are, so if any of you try to run away they'll be very happy to kill you. Go get your food."_

_The food was a loaf of bread between two, and a bottle of ale each. Ivar cornered Uhtred and his buddy and sent them off for their night on the battlements. "And if either of you tries to nap" he growled "You'll wake up without a hand. Now get out of my sight."_

_So the two sloped off to the cold and windy battlements with their dinner and settled down on top of the gatehouse. The wind chilled them to the bone, the snow soaked them through, and their breath turned to clouds of mist in front of them. Uhtred tore the load of bread in half and handed half to his buddy, who looked about as miserable as he could get. They ate in silence for a minute or so before his buddy spoke up "Im sorry." was all he said._

"_Sorry for what?" asked Uhtred, taking huge bites out of his half of the bread._

"_Landing us here for the night." replied his buddy, picking his bread apart and nibbling it._

"_Did you do it on purpose?"_

"_No, of course not."_

"_Then don't be sorry."_

_His buddy smiled weakly. Uhtred grinned back at him. "What's your name mate?"_

"_Egbert." replied his buddy, who was now trying to get his ale open. _

"_Uhtred. Need a hand with that bottle?" _

_Egbert nodded and Uhtred took the bottle from him, twisting the top off and handing it back, before opening his own ale and gulping it down thirstily. "So what do you do?" he asked Egbert, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "I was a clerk for the black horse courier. What about you?"_

"_Oh, I was a farmer. Well, farmers son. You ever done anything like this before?"_

"_Like what?"_

_Uhtred gestured at his spear, which was propped against the wall. Egbert shook his head, and Uhtred grinned again. "Me neither. Think we'll have to fight?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well, you seem like the clever type. You reckon anyone will attack Bruma?"_

_Egbert looked back at the town for a second, evidently thinking. He sipped his ale, gagged slightly, then spoke. "Probably. It's a rich town, and it's a good place to launch attacks into Skyrim from. But they'll need to take the Imperial city first."_

_Uhtred frowned "Why the Imperial city?"_

"_Because the road to Bruma comes from there. If anyone marches on Bruma, the soldiers from the Imperial city can hit them in the rear, while the soldiers from Bruma hit them in the front."_

"_Like a sandwich, you mean?"_

"_Sort of, but a lot more blood."_

_Uhtred laughed and tried to scrape some of the rust off his shield with a pebble. "I was right, you are clever." Egbert smiled. "Clever, but tired." he said. _

"_If you want to sleep," said Uhtred quietly "I'll wait up and wake you if anyone comes along."_

"_You sure?"_

"_Positive."_

_So Egbert slept, and Uhtred sat and wondered at the absurdity of the situation. A farmers son and a clerk, freezing themselves to the bone on top of a windy gatehouse. What an odd world._

_As the sky began to turn from black to deep blue, Uhtred nudged Egbert awake and they sat and made small talk for an hour or so before Ivar appeared next to them, almost silently, and bullied them back to the castle courtyard for more training._

"_Ok shitheads, today im going to teach you how not to get killed. Its so simple that even puny here might manage it. Shield in front of you, that's it. No lad, don't hold it against your chest, what happens if an arrow goes through it? Six inches out, there you go. Now lets see how good you are."_

_To every recruits surprise, Ivar drew his sword and walked to one end of the line. "Ok," he said "If you're good enough, you'll be fine. If you're not trying hard enough, you'll be dead." he raised his sword and brought it swishing down, hard, on the first mans shield. The man cried out in pain at the shock on his arm, but the shield held up well and he lived. It was much the same with the others, until Ivar finally got to Uhtred. He grinned, then chopped down as hard as he could on the edge of the shield, cutting through the fragile iron rim and slicing two inches into the wood, but the shield didn't move an inch. Just as he hoped. _

_Next was Egbert, who looked terrified. Uhtred knew that Ivar would show no mercy, and that Egbert would never have the strength to hold off the blow, especially not with the fragile fur shield. So when Ivars sword swished downwards, Uhtred elbowed Egbert hard in the ribs, sending him sideways. The sword only glanced the shield, and Ivar was furious. He made both Uhtred and Egbert run five times around the walls while he chased after them, bringing the flat of his sword down onto their backs constantly. _

_The pair fell back into line, panting heavily with their backs aching terribly. Ivar seemed hardly out of breath when he stood in front of the line again, and he was even more pleased at Uhtred. Strong, protective and angry. All the kid needed was a bit of training and he would be lethal._

_So training is what Ivar gave them. All day he hammered on shields, knocked heads together, tripped people up, and taught them how to parry a sword blow with a spear. Uhtred learned quickly, and almost all of them were getting the hang of it by the evening. All except Egbert, who simply couldn't move fast enough. Uhtred encouraged him, Ivar shouted at him, but try as he might he just wasn't capable. As Ivar constantly reminded him, the day Egbert went into battle would be the day he died. _

_Which meant that it was a scared and despairing Egbert that sat with Uhtred in their grotty tent that night, picking at his bread and sipping his ale long after Uhtred had finished eating. The pair of them ached all over, especially on their backs, and neither was feeling much like talking. But Uhtred forced himself to, because he had just had an idea that could be an end to all Egbert's troubles. He described his plan to Egbert, who smiled for the first time that day. "When do we try?" he asked._

"_Too late today. Tomorrow, right after training."_

"_If I live till then."_

"_Don't be stupid, you're not going to die while im here. Lets get some sleep, this time tomorrow we'll be laughing."_

_It was a good plan, thought Egbert as he curled up on the bedroll. A very good plan that could either sort everything out, or make things ten times worse. Luckily, they were both gambling men._

_The next morning they were both in good spirits. There was something about knowing that everything could be sorted out by the time they went to sleep that made the day seem so much less daunting. _

_Although, for Uhtred at least, the day wasn't that bad at all. Ivar lined them up in a row facing a wooden dummy that had been 'rescued' from the fighters guild and gave them his customary morning greeting. "Good morning, arsewipes. Yesterday you learned how to save your own life, today you're going to learn how to take somebody else's." He carried a long, thin stick. "You're going to come up here one at a time and im going to point" he jabbed at the dummy with the stick "At where I want you to spear the bugger. If you miss, I wont." he brandished the stick at them "If you hit, I might think about giving you a morning off. You first." _

_So one by one they took turns to jab at the dummy, with varying degrees of success. Some hit well, some hit badly, others missed the dummy entirely and got Ivars stick over their backs. When it came to Egbert's turn he got hit no less than three times, once for being slow, once for missing, and once for dropping his spear._

"_Pathetic, puny. Piss off back in line and lets see if your bum boy can do any better. Looney, go." he pointed the stick at the dummy's head and Uhtred jabbed hard, so hard that he had trouble getting the spear out of the wood. Ivar hit him. "Clumsy bastard." he shouted "Do better this time."_

_So Uhtred jabbed at the dummy's gut, hitting perfectly. Ivar hit him again "Too slow!" he bellowed, although it wasn't at all. He simply wanted to see how good his barbarian could get, so he poked the stick at the shoulder and Uhtred struck like a snake, hitting perfectly again. But still he got the stick across his legs. "Twist, you useless piece of crap, TWIST!" so Uhtred jabbed the spear at the dummy's chest with the speed of an arrow, twisting the spearhead in the hole and pulling it out. Ivar didn't hit him that time, but didn't let him know how good he was either. "You've got a lot of work to do, looney. Get back in line. Everyone, press ups, get going."_

_In the evening they were released again, but instead of going to their tent, Uhtred and Egbert wandered towards the castle before they had even eaten. The guard at the door challenged them; "What do you want?"_

"_We want to see the countess." Uhtred answered, doing his best to look impressive but not threatening._

"_Why? Old Ivar getting too much for you is he? Want to be locked up instead?" he opened the door "be my guest." he said, grinning. _

_The two entered, and immediately felt out of place. Two ragged leviers in a hall full of fine masonry and red carpeting. Their spears were taken off them, and they were told to wait on a bench. Egbert began to panic "Are you sure this is going to work?" he asked nervously._

"_Nope." grinned Uhtred "But it's the best option. it's the only option."_

"_I hope it works…" said Egbert, to nobody in particular. Uhtred nodded silently. He too was beginning to have second thoughts, but didn't have time to dwell on them because a guard appeared in front of them and gestured them towards the throne where the countess sat. Very humbly, they walked towards her and bowed. "What can I do for you?" she asked in a friendly tone, although it was clear that whatever it was, her decision would be final._

"_Well," began Egbert, blushing deeply. Uhtred took over. _

"_Your highness," he said, wondering if that was the right way to address a countess. A snicker from the guard told him that it wasn't, but he pushed on. "You know the new garrison that you're forming? Well, Egbert here, he isn't very good at soldiering."_

"_And what do you want me to do about it?" asked the countess, with an edge to her voice that told Uhtred that he had about thirty seconds to get to the point before they were thrown out._

"_Sorry, your highness. I mean, my lady. Well, the thing is, he's not very good at soldiering, but he's very bright."_

"_What are you trying to say?"_

"_Well its just that, well, we noticed that you don't have an aide. And, well, maybe we could kill two birds with one stone. He could become your aide, so he would be doing something useful for you instead of spending all day waiting to die the moment he goes into battle."_

_Uhtred knew that he could have phrased it better, but he was panicking now. If she said no, Egbert was doomed. He dared to look at her face, and saw that she was thinking. Egbert was practically shaking next to him. Finally, the countess spoke, looking over Uhtred's shoulder. "Is that ok with you, Ivar?"_

_Uhtred looked behind him and almost died. Ivar was standing a couple of feet away, looking at him intently. Without a word, he nodded. "Well then its settled." Smiled the countess. "Egbert, you start tomorrow, and can sleep in the servants quarters tonight if you wish. Was there anything else?"_

_Uhtred shook his head and understood that he was dismissed. With a grin to the stunned looking Egbert, he turned to leave but was checked by Ivar. "Follow me." he growled. Uhtred knew he was in for it now, but he didn't know how bad it was. Would he just get a beating, or would Ivar kill him? As he followed Ivar to the guards barracks, he thought about running for it. Only the fact that there was no way he would escape stopped him. _

_Ivar let him upstairs into his room and shut the door after him, reaching into a chest and pulling out a number of objects that Uhtred couldn't quite see. Then he turned and Uhtred jumped. The man was actually smiling._

"_So." he said, eyeing Uhtred up and down "the looney isn't so looney after all. Why did you do that?"_

_Uhtred thought for a second "I didn't want him to get killed sir."_

"_You didn't want him to get killed. Why not?"_

"_Because he's more useful alive, sir."_

"_I didn't know the boy had a use. You do realise that because of you, ive just lost a recruit?"_

"_Im sorry, sir."_

"_Bollocks you are. Do you know why ive brought you here?"_

"_To punish me, sir?"_

"_No. At least, not yet. No, I brought you here because I think its time you learned why im so hard on you."_

"_Sir?"_

"_Im hard on you, looney, because you're the best. Oh yes, the rest of them are just fine, but you're the only one who I would put money on. And if you're the best, then you deserve at least better than the worst."_

_Uhtred was puzzled "What do you mean sir?"_

_Ivar stretched out a hand "Pass me your shield."_

_Uhtred did so, and Ivar put it on the floor, then stamped on it hard, snapping the wood and bending the metal. "That's what I mean. Its like giving an excellent painter a squirrels tail and a bottle of grease to work with. If you're going to be excellent, you need decent gear. So," he rummaged around in the chest again and pulled out a round shield, painted black and white, with a wolves head painted on the front. "you can use this, since you just broke your own. I got it from a corpse at Kvatch."_

"_You were at Kvatch?"_

"_I was, when I was much younger. I was in the legion then. One more thing, you no longer have a buddy."_

"_No sir."_

"_So now you're my buddy."_

"_Sir?"_

"_Buddy, sergeant, whatever you want to call it. Now piss off, im tired."_

_So Uhtred, his new shield on his arm, walked back to his tent and spent an hour wandering what the hell had just happened. _

_The next morning Ivar woke Uhtred even earlier than usual with his customary kick in the ribs, and explained to him his new duties. "First, you have to make sure this lot keep in line. They're starting to get used to this life, which means they'll start getting cocky. Second, you have to keep them happy. They're bugger all use to me if they don't want to live. And finally, you have to make sure they're scared of you. You know why so many men are bad leaders, sergeant?"_

"_No sir."_

"_Because they want to be liked. They spend too much time worrying about what the men think of them and not enough time worrying about what the men can do. As long as they do what you say, that's all you want. If they like you, its just a bonus. Do you like me?"_

"_No sir." said Uhtred, knowing it was the answer Ivar wanted, although he was getting quite fond of the old bastard in a strange way. _

"_No sir. But you still do what I say. Now its not only more duties you get, you get some rights as well. You can hit who you like, im not going to hit you in front of the men, and you get your tent to yourself. Clear?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_Good man. Your first job as sergeant is to get this lot on their feet, on parade, in five minutes time. Get shifting."_

_So Uhtred started being a sergeant. He took Ivars words about being liked to heart, and imitated the guardsman to a T. He kicked, he shouted, he threatened and he chased the men into line It was only afterwards that he realised none of them knew he was sergeant. His new shield was the only symbol of it he had, apart from that he was still in his stinking clothes and long, untidy hair. _

_Ivar motioned Uhtred to stand beside him in front of the men. Drawing his sword and pointing it at Uhtred, he looked each man in the eye and said; "This man is your new sergeant. He's allowed to do everything im allowed to do, which includes killing you if he feels like it. Now, today we're going to put everything together. You know how to block, how to stab and how to parry. Today you learn how to win a battle. You four, line up there. You four, over there." as the men moved, Ivar and Uhtred both noticed that they moved very differently then they had when they had started. None of them looked scared, all of them had beefed out slightly, and they moved together well. So the training was working._

"_Ok," shouted Ivar "Me and the sergeant are going to demonstrate how to make a shield wall. You lock your shields like this," he slipped the left side of his shield behind the right side of Uhtred's "and never break that gap. A gap in your shield wall means you're dead. Do it." the men locked their shields, and Ivar walked up and down the lines adjusting them and hammering on them until he was satisfied. Then he removed the bag he was wearing around his neck and tipped the contents onto the ground. Out fell several wooden tubes, covered at one end and open at the other. Ivar walked to the corner and picked up a spare spear, then slipped one of the wooden tubes over the top. _

"_Everyone put one of these over their spearhead, then get back into formation as quick as you can. And you better do it bloody perfect, or the man facing you wont have a wooden tube." _

_As soon as the shield walls faced each other again, Ivar began bellowing. "Ok, here's the rules. Bash whoever you like, wherever you like. Your aim is to make the wall break, and if that means taking some teeth out or knocking someone senseless, that's fine by me. Go for it."_

_The walls approached each other slowly and hesitantly. Nobody wanted to be within range of anybody else's spear, and when the walls met they took a while to get into it. Eventually, one of the walls broke and the teams separated. Ivar walked in between, looking disgusted. "When you do it this time," he barked "Remember you're trying to kill the bastard, not tickle him. If me or the sergeant think you're going too slow, you'll get a spear up your arse. Try again."_

_The magic threats had done their trick again, and the walls came towards each other confidently, and it wasn't long before one young man was on his back, dazed from a blow to the head. Ivar kept them going at each other, over and over again, until he was confident that they were as good as they could get. Then he lined them up._

"_I didn't tell you this earlier" he said, pacing up and down "because I didn't want you to get happy. But this was your last day of training, much good might it do you. If you get killed now, its your fault not mine. You'll be pleased to know that you're still under my command, and you'll be even more pleased to hear that you get time off. The duty roster will be put up in the chapel undercroft, where you will live from now on. So piss off over there and get settled in. Sergeant."_

_Uhtred stayed while the rest of the men, too exhausted to celebrate, sloped off towards the chapel. Ivar walked up to him and handed him a strip of black cloth. "Tie it round your arm so that everybody knows you're a sergeant. And go get that roster off your mate, if he hasn't finished it give him a kick up the arse."_

_When Uhtred finally found Egbert's office the aide was inside, looking harassed and rushed. Uhtred walked in and plopped down in a chair facing the desk. "Guess what?" he grinned, showing Egbert his black armband. "I heard." said Egbert, not looking up. "Well done mate. Are you here for the roster?"_

"_Yeah, have you done it yet?"_

"_Nearly." Egbert looked up and grinned "Just tell me when you want to be on duty."_

"_I get to pick?" asked Uhtred, surprised._

"_Well, not officially, but I owe you and nobody will find out anyway. You have to do four slots a week."_

"_Slots?"_

"_Midnight to midday, or midday to midnight."_

"_Ok, how about… Monday morning, Wednesday morning, Friday morning, and Sunday morning?"_

_Egbert scribbled down the hours on the roster and handed it over. "There you go. Come see me sometime, if I ever get all this work done."_

"_What do you have to do?" Uhtred asked _

"_Well, its mostly military. Rosters, unit duties, billeting, weapons distribution, weapons production…"_

_Uhtred left to office five minutes later, regretting asking Egbert about his work and making a mental note never to do so again. _

_The next few weeks passed without incident. When he wasn't on duty manning the walls or off duty telling somebody off, or asleep, he would spend his time in the tavern, or chatting to Egbert in his office. He occasionally saw Ivar when the grizzled guardsman came into the billet to make sure nobody was having too much fun, or simply because he felt like hitting somebody. Late winter became spring, which became early summer. Every time Uhtred walked into Egbert's office, he asked if there was any news of the rest of Cyrodiil, but there never was. Who was to carry it?_

_It was late one night, while Uhtred was getting in Egbert's way for fun, that it happened. There was a sudden commotion outside and Uhtred, revelling in the idea that there may be somebody to punish, ran outside, with Egbert hot on his heels. They made their way to the source of all the activity, which turned out to be the southeast tower. Bullying his way to the front of the crowd with Egbert following in his wake, Uhtred saw it._

_White gold tower was on fire._

_It was easily identified. A pillar of flames rising high into the sky, with a number of smaller fires nearby. The imperial city was being attacked, and it looked like the defenders were losing. _

"_Make way now, make way", a gap opened in the crowd and the countess herself appeared, flanked by four guards. She took one look and asked, "How long ago did they start?"_

"_About five minutes ma'am" answered a nearby levy. The countess turned away and made her way back to the castle, and Egbert followed dutifully. Uhtred followed as well, eager to find out what was going to happen, and by making sure he looked like he was with Egbert he was able to gain entrance to the countess' dining room without incident. As he waited near the door, prominent citizens and guardsmen entered and each took a seat around the long table, ad Uhtred realised that this was a committee; a collection of those with influence, resources and wisdom. The countess was certainly doing things properly. As the last of them took their seats, Uhtred heard a gruff voice in his ear; "What you doing here, looney?"_

_Uhtred turned to see Ivar standing beside him, watching the meeting. "Nothing sir, just waiting to hear weather we get to fight or not." he answered, making Ivar smile ever so slightly. _

"_About time we did" he growled "about a hundred new men, and im sick of trying to find jobs for them all. They've got the training, but they need the experience."_

_The pair stood in silence, listening to the discussion. The problem was clear: going to the aid of the imperial city would be a gamble. If they saved the city, they could be sure of a solid alliance. But if they got there and there was nothing to save, they would have left their own town less protected for nothing. Argument followed argument, and things eventually became quite heated. Finally the countess, who had said very little, stood and waved her hand for silence. The whole room seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the final verdict._

"_I will" said the countess in a loud, clear voice "send troops to the imperial city. A third of our force, two thirds of which will be the levy. The rest will be made up of guardsmen. This force will be led by Captain Thorsson," she indicated a large, bearded man to her left, and Ivar groaned "and will leave as soon as he has picked his men. Goodnight to you all."_

_The meeting adjourned, and Ivar motioned that Uhtred should follow him. He led Uhtred to his room in the guard house and produced a bottle of wine and a bottle of mead, which he passed to Uhtred. Taking a deep swig from his bottle of wine, he spoke. "I don't envy you, looney."_

"_No, sir?"_

"_No. You're a sergeant, so he'll pick you."_

"_I thought you said I needed the experience sir."_

"_You need experience man, but experience of a battle. Not a bloody slaughter like that bastard will give you."_

"_Sir?"_

_Ivar sighed. "Thorsson is an officer of the old school, which means he's obsessed with death or glory. Now I don't have a problem with that idea when its just one man going for it, but when its one man sending sixty other men towards death or glory, that's a really easy way to turn your army into meat."_

_Uhtred grinned, despite the guardsman's bitter words. "it's the enemy that'll be meat, sir.", making Ivar bark out a laugh._

"_That's the kind of talk I like to hear, looney. Now let me give you some advice; first, get yourself another weapon. A spear might be good in a shield wall, but once it goes beyond that you want something smaller. An axe might do you. Secondly, once the battle's over, get yourself as much kit as you can off the dead. Ours, theirs, it doesn't matter. It's the only way you'll get it."_

_Uhtred nodded. He was about to ask weather Ivar would be coming, but the door burst open and Egbert appeared. "Ivar," he said, enjoying the fact that he was allowed to call the man by his name "You and your lot are going. It wasn't my choice, im sorry."_

_Ivar looked stunned for a second, then grinned. "That's ok puny, just a pity you're not coming with us. When do we leave?"_

"_Half an hour."_

_Egbert left the room, and Ivar grinned. "You know what, looney?" he asked "I feel almost young again. Now go and gather up the lads, tell them they're going to have a fight. Ill meet you by the gates."_

_Half an hour later Uhtred and Ivar were reunited, along with their section. It was beginning to rain, and the force was beginning to form into a column. As Uhtred was tucking his new axe (skilfully 'borrowed' from Nord Winds) into his belt, he found Egbert at his side. The young man was looking bashful, as if he didn't quite know what to say. Uhtred too was lost for words, so he simply extended his hand. Egbert shook it, and then was gone without a sound. From ahead came the order to march and, drenched, cold and nervous, the army moved out towards what would be, for many, their first battle. And for most, their last. _

_When Uhtred stood in the shield wall, facing the largest band of marauders he had ever seen, he noticed two things; first, that the levy were in the front line of the shield wall, with the more experienced and better equipped guardsmen behind them. Any intelligent commander would put his best troops in front to make absolutely sure the line wouldn't break._

_The second thing he noticed was that the enemy force was much larger than their own. Every warband of marauders in Cyrodiil must have joined together to attack the imperial city, and each one was experienced. Yet Thorsson was trying to defeat them with a much smaller force comprised mainly of raw recruits who had never seen a fight before. _

_Nevertheless, Uhtred stood his ground. He was on the left flank of the shield wall, with the rest of the men from his squad. Ivar was behind, with all the other officers. Then the order came to advance, and almost everybody hesitated. The order came again and slowly, ever so slowly, the line began to move. Uhtred could feel the man on his left shaking, and the man on his right was praying. Fear spread through the ranks like a disease, and Uhtred felt it creeping into his heart. For a second or two he faltered; his legs wouldn't work, his shield and spear felt heavy, and he knew that the place he most wanted to be was anywhere but here. His bowels clenched, and he thought about turning and making a run for it. And then the first arrow hit his shield, and he realised that there was no way out. They were trying to kill him, so he would have to kill them. _

_More arrows were hitting the wall now, drawing grunts and screams from those hit by them. Gaps began to appear in the wall, and nobody thought to close them. Everyone was concentrating on trying to make his shield cover his whole body, and still the line moved forwards. Then the enemy charged, with a ferocity that took everybody completely by surprised. Most were still in a state of shock when the enemy charge hit the wall, smashing the centre to pieces in a hail of arrows and bloodthirsty violence. Uhtred watched as if it was a dream, everything seemed to be going at half the usual speed. He watched a spearman have his head split in half by an Orc with a claymore, his brain and skull turning into bloodied strips of nothing. He saw a man on the ground with his guts spilling out, and another with both his legs removed. Uhtred had never imagined such terrible sights, nor had he ever noticed just how fragile life was. Death was everywhere that day, and Uhtred resolved to fight it with every ounce of strength. _

_So when the enemy reached his section of the wall, he steeled himself. He held his spear as level as he could, and aimed it at the throat of an armoured enemy coming right at him; when the man got close Uhtred thrust his spear forwards, and to his surprise it hit true before his opponent could parry it, tearing the mans throat out and sending him reeling backwards. Almost immediately afterwards, Uhtred found himself in the thick of the battle. The whole line was engaged now, and there wasn't a single man who wasn't fighting for his life._

_Uhtred left his spear in the marauders throat and pulled his war axe from his belt, holding up his shield to protect himself from the constant arrows that rained down on the battle like a storm, causing havoc for the levy. The marauders were all clad in at least a plate metal cuirass and the guardsmen had their mail and leather hauberks, but the militiamen had nothing more than a shield. For every one marauder that died, several screaming young draftees fell to the ground. It was, as Ivar had predicted, a slaughter._

_Uhtred did all he could. He swung his axe like a hammer onto the enemy, trying to find weak points in their armour. He punched with his shield, he ducked and dodged and parried, but eventually found himself up against an opponent that he knew was far out of his league. It was an Orc, at least seven feet tall, brandishing a claymore as if it was nothing bigger or heavier than a dagger. The Orcish armour glinted in the dawn light, and seemed to cover every inch of flesh. Uhtred knew that the best he could hope for was to stay alive until somebody helped him._

_So he weaved and leapt out of the way of the great blade, trying and failing to find time to get a solid hit on the massive Orc. And he was tiring now, he had been fighting for the best part of half an hour; his shield arm ached, his axe arm burned, and his legs felt like nothing more than bread. He knew that his time would come soon._

_And indeed it did. He hesitated for a split second, and the great sword crashed down onto his shield, knocking him to the ground. The Orc saw his opportunity and raised the claymore high above his head, swinging it in circles to make the killer blow all the more powerful._

_Then Uhtred saw his chance. Moving like a cat, he shot his arm out and hooked the head of his axe behind the marauders ankle, and pulled hard. The ground was wet, and the Orc was off balance. He went to the ground like a ton of bricks, giving Uhtred time to scramble to his feet and aim a solid blow at the Orc's face, which struck true and bit in deep. A bellow of rage and pain, a shudder, a spurt of warm blood, and it was done._

_But the battle was still being lost. Uhtred could see guardsmen retreating, and Thorsson was nowhere in sight. It was all but over, and Uhtred saw nothing but marauders around him. He knew that the battle was lost, and he also knew that there was no retreat for him. The only reason he wasn't yet dead was because he was kneeling on to ground over the Orc's lifeless body. Fighting his way out was not an option, and neither was surrender. The only way out was to play dead. _

_So Uhtred lay on the ground and, with some difficulty, pulled the Orc's carcass over him. There he lay, absolutely still, listening to the sounds of a battle ending. It was growing quiet, with an occasional scream or laugh, and the sounds of the rain falling on metal and flesh, on living and dead. It was these sounds that lulled Uhtred to sleep._

_He woke at around midday, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was and why he was there. Heaving the heavy body off him, he sat up warily and looked around at the battlefield. All around him were lumps on the earth, men who had been living, breathing and laughing not twelve hours before, but had been cut down in the great slaughter, in the name of 'Death or glory'._

_Uhtred stood slowly, half expecting to get an arrow in his back, or to hear a shout. But everything was silent and still, even the rain had stopped. There wasn't another living soul in sight, so Uhtred began to walk around. He wasn't even sure what he was doing, the enormity of the slaughter he had just lived through had left him stunned and confused. He couldn't keep his thoughts coherent for long enough to come to any conclusions, and he didn't know what to do next. Bruma could be in flames, in which case it was pointless going back there. The Imperial city could still be standing, or it could be another slaughter yard. After a minute or so of thought, Uhtred decided the best he could do was to try and find anybody he knew, and any useful equipment he could pillage from the dead. It wasn't long before he found the remains of his squad mates, laying close to each other, each one of them stone dead. One was spitted with arrows, another had lost both his arms. Near them was a body without a head, and a leg without a body. In Uhtred's imagination, battle had been a noble and clean business, where men lived or died cleanly, and great heroics were performed. But as he stared down at the reality of brutality, slaughter, terror and mutilation, he felt his preconceptions of warfare shatter. There was nothing around him that suggested anything other than a massacre that should never have happened._

_But brooding would get him nowhere. He foraged amongst the dead, taking anything he could possibly use. It was difficult, most of the armour on the dead was ruined, and many of the weapons were broken. Occasionally he would turn a body over, checking to see if it was anybody he knew, and saw many familiar faces. There was a man he knew from the tavern who spent the nights singing for drinks, and the chatty guardsman from the castle gate. Ivar, thankfully, was nowhere to be found. Alive or dead._

_As the sun began to recede, Uhtred looked down on the collection he had amassed. There was a chain mail cuirass that was undamaged but for a neat hole in the back, evidently caused by a spear. It had been on the body of a young female archer, who's eyes stared unseeing at the heavens as the wind blew her long hair across her cold face. Although she was obviously a marauder, Uhtred couldn't help but feel a stab of pity. Such a pretty thing._

_There was also a pair of stout chain mail boots, taken from the same body, as were the gauntlets. They just about fitted Uhtred, mercifully, but his real pride was his new weapon. It was taken from the great Orc that he had killed, the huge steel claymore. Uhtred knew all too well the fear that the great sword could cause and found that although the weapon was unwieldy at first, once it was swung it took little effort at all, and built up a surprising momentum. He swung it at dead marauders for a few minutes, slowly getting used to the feel of it, and was surprised at how it could crack steel with a single blow. It also helped bring him back to his senses and focused his mind, so that he rapidly decided where he should go. The marauders would have gone to Bruma, and the outcome of that battle would not be influenced by Uhtred. Bruma would stand or fall, and if he went there he would simply die. The imperial city would at least be free of marauders, even if it had fallen, so he would go there. He didn't like the idea of leaving his friends in Bruma, but he was much more use alive than dead and besides, the walls of Bruma were high, and its garrison large. The chances of a successful defence were good. _

_So Uhtred, his new sword strapped to his back and clad in chain mail, with the wolves head shield slung over his shoulder, made his way southwards from the field of the dead towards, he hoped, a city of the living. _

_He reached the Imperial city at dusk. The fires were out now, and from the far end of the bridge over lake Rumare Uhtred thought that he could see the closed gates. A small glimmer of hope appeared for, if the gates were indeed closed, then the city perhaps had not been breached. But what of the fires? Where had they come from? And what if, if the garrison survived, they thought he was a marauder and killed him on sight? All that Uhtred could think to do was raise his arms high in the air, keep his head down and hope for the best, but as he crossed the bridge there were no shouts. The light of hope began to fade, and then was extinguished completely as an arrow thudded into the stone at Uhtred's feet. As another flew over his shoulder he looked up and saw something he never thought he would be glad to see: a member of the imperial watch, pointing a bow at him. Uhtred raised his arms higher and shouted that he was a friend, from Bruma._

"_Stay there!" commanded the watchman, and Uhtred stood stock still, his arms still raised. He stayed still for minutes, hearing the murmur of voices on the walls above, until finally there was another shout;_

"_You have five bows pointed at your chest. Lay your weapon on the floor, someone's coming out to fetch you."_

_Uhtred very slowly pulled his sword from his back and laid it gently on the stone flags of the bridge, and heard the gates open very slowly. Out of them emerged four men clad in the plate armour of the legion, grim faced and tough. When they reached him, one of them picked up the sword and two of them grabbed his arms. A third drew his longsword and poked it at Uhtred's back, and he was frogmarched inside. He made no struggle or protest as he was led through the gates and into a huge tower, where the watchmen led him into a room where two of them waited with him. One of them held the huge claymore, and the other had removed the wolf shield and was examining it closely. Neither of them spoke. _

_Minutes passed and Uhtred made no attempt at conversation. He knew he was being treated as a prisoner, and if he was ever going to convince them that he was an ally, he would have to be humble. He could see the sky outside darkening steadily as he waited, and still neither of the watchmen said anything. Uhtred began to wonder if anybody was actually coming. _

_Finally, someone did come. A watch captain in his silver and gold armour walked through the door and nodded to the watchmen, who left with Uhtred's shield and sword, leaving the captain alone with Uhtred. So they trusted him slightly, at least._

_The captain sat at the table and pulled a sheet of parchment towards him, then rummaged around for a pen. Finding one, he dipped it in an inkwell and began to write slowly, saying nothing. Uhtred was too busy admiring the armour to notice, he had never been to the imperial city before and so had never seen armour the likes of this. The guards of Bruma and the watchmen who patrolled the roads wore armour that was merely functional and nothing else, but this armour was beautiful. It was so highly polished that it glinted even in the half-light of the small room, and the gold inlay was perfect. Not a single fault could be seen. Finally the captain looked up and said a single word: "Explain."_

_So Uhtred explained. He told the man everything, from the militia raised by Bruma, to the great slaughter earlier that day. He told how the guards had seen the city burning, and how the countess had sent a small force to come to its aid. The captain seemed to be writing his words down as he said them, but stopped when Uhtred mentioned Ivar._

"_Ivar?" asked the captain "Big fellow, shouts a lot?"_

_Uhtred nodded, and the captain grinned, screwed up the sheet of parchment and threw it over his shoulder. When Uhtred gave him a questioning look, he laughed loudly. _

"_That was for your trial, we were convinced that you were a marauder. Im sorry but the shield from Kvatch made us suspicious, and the big sword is exactly the kind of thing a marauder would use. But, now that you've mentioned Ivar, im inclined to let you live. I assume he gave you the shield?" Uhtred nodded. "He said it was from Kvatch."_

"_Obviously its from Kvatch lad, I was there when the old rascal got it. Oh yes, I was there. Of course, I was just a legionnaire then, like Ivar. Then he went to Bruma to be a guardsman in a quiet town, which of course was a mistake when you remember what happened to Bruma. I stayed here and ended up as a captain! Ivar would love that…" he stopped talking suddenly. "He wasn't killed in the battle was he?"_

"_I couldn't find his body, sir."_

"_Sir? Ha! Don't call me sir lad, im not Ivar. Im sure he loved drilling a batch of fresh new recruits, didn't he?"_

"_He seemed to enjoy it a lot."_

"_Of course he did, the evil old sod. Well then, if he gave you that shield he must have liked you, though I bet he didn't show it. So if he liked you, I like you. Oh damn!" he turned around and picked up the crumpled parchment. "Ill need to tell them about the battle and how the countess tried to help us. Could mean an alliance."_

"_So where did the fires come from, if you weren't attacked?"_

"_Who says we weren't attacked? They tried to come through the sewers, the cheating swine! So we got a mage to send a few fireballs down at them, but he was a bit too enthusiastic with them. No lasting damage done though, have it fixed up in no time. Guards!"_

_The door opened and the two watchmen came in, still holding Uhtred's kit. "Give him back his things." said the captain "And take him to the Tiber Septim hotel, tell the girl he's my guest. What's your name lad?"_

"_Uhtred."_

"_Uhtred, ha! A Nord to the core, aren't you? My names Tobias, Tobias Thorn. Get a good nights sleep, get some food in you, and ill see you in the morning."_

"_Thank you, Mr Thorn."_

"_Call me Tobias lad, you're not in the watch. Goodnight!"_

_Uhtred left with the watchmen, who led him through the darkened streets to a very large and tidy hotel. One of them said something to the girl at the counter, then they gave Uhtred his weapon and shield back and left him. He stood, not entirely sure what to do, and the girl came over to him with a large smile on her face._

"_Welcome!" she said "That guard told me you're a guest of Mr Thorn, so you can help yourself to anything. Your room is at the top of the stairs, third door on the left. If you want to eat, I can have food brought up to you if you like." Uhtred nodded. "Well then, ill send some up with Ella. Is there anything else you need?"_

_Uhtred thought for a second. "Do you have any hammers?" he gestured at his shield. The girl shook her head and smiled. "No, sorry. But im sure you can ask Mr Thorn for some tomorrow, he usually breakfasts here."_

_Uhtred thanked her and made his way upstairs. He had already forgotten where his room was, so he simply tried every door until he found one that was open. Inside the room was a large, soft bed, a wardrobe, a desk and everything he could possibly need, but very little that he could use. So he put his shield on the desk, propped the sword up in the corner, and had just taken his cuirass off when he heard a knock at the door. Opening it, he saw a small and extremely pretty Altmer girl standing with a tray of food and drink, smiling sheepishly at the sight of the half-naked Nord with his long, untidy hair and bruised body. "Ive got your food!" she said brightly, walking in and going to place it on the desk, until she saw the shield there instead. Uhtred quickly moved it, and she put the tray down._

"_Is there anything else you need?" she asked, and although Uhtred could think of several things, he didn't think the girl was paid enough for them. So he thanked her and said no. She smiled and said, "Well if you think of anything, just come downstairs. There's a note from Mr Thorn on the tray, do you know him?"_

"_We just met…"_

"_Must like you if he's put you here. He's a good man is Mr Thorn, even if he never seems to slow down. Five year's he's been coming here and ive never seen him down. Goodnight!"_

"_Goodnight…" Uhtred said, slightly stunned by the girl. She seemed like a puppy, all bounce and enthusiasm. Not to mention attractive, oh what he wouldn't do…_

_After a minutes drooling, Uhtred made his way to the tray and opened the note from 'Mr Thorn', which said that the man would be breakfasting tomorrow at 9am, and would be honoured if Uhtred would join him. So with a good nights sleep in mind, Uhtred ate vigorously, drained the bottle of wine in a few gulps, and collapsed backwards onto the bed, falling asleep before he had even pulled the covers over himself. _

_He was woken by a knock on his door, and opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the window and bringing out the full colours of the room. The first thing he was aware of was a dull ache all over, a result no doubt of the knocks and activity of the previous days fight. Letting out an incoherent moan as an indication that the person behind the door should enter, he looked up and found himself looking at Ella, who was looking as though there was nothing she could have wanted more than to fulfil his every whim. She smiled widely and spoke. "Good morning mister! Mr Thorn is downstairs, being very energetic in his requests for your company. Should I tell him you'll be down presently?"_

_Uhtred nodded in a slightly dazed way and half rolled off the bed, landing with a thud on the wooden floor. Ella rushed over to him and helped him to his feet. "Are you all right?" _

_Uhtred smiled at her "Yeah, im fine. I think my arm's a bit knackered though." _

"_yes, from what I gather from Mr Thorns words you were in a fight yesterday. Don't worry though sir, a couple of days relaxing and you'll be as good as new! Ill leave you to get dressed."_

_Uhtred almost said that she was very welcome to stay, but checked himself at the last second and managed to pass off the opening of his mouth by saying "My names Uhtred, by the way." Ella smiled "Nice to meet you, Uhtred. I'll go and tell Mr Thorn you're on your way."_

_Cursing himself for making such an idiot of himself, Uhtred clambered into his mail and picked up his sword and shield, slinging them both onto his back and walking hesitantly down the stairs. His arrival in the lobby was greeted by a great roar, and he looked to see Tobias Thorn standing up and walking purposefully towards him._

"_Good morning Uhtred, good morning! Did you sleep well? Good! Now, sit ye down, sit ye down. Have some of this venison, the cook here has great talents with red meat. Ella! Where is that girl? Ella, some mead if you would be so kind. I daresay young Uhtred here needs a stiff drink. How are you feeling after yesterdays battle, young man?"_

"_A little sore." Uhtred admitted. He couldn't help smiling at Tobias' buoyancy, it seemed to infect everybody around him. The girl behind the counter was working at an incredible speed and Ella, who had seemed to be bordering on a burst blood vessel before, now looked as if she was in serious danger of exploding._

"_Of course you are lad! You know, we sent men to the field last night to have a look, and it seems to have been a battle to remember, eh?"_

"_A lost battle." said Uhtred quietly._

"_Lost?" Bellowed Tobias, gesturing wildly with an apple. "Lost? On the face of it perhaps, but a victory in the long run! If we can get an alliance with Bruma over this, it's the first step in reuniting Cyrodiil! And all because you survived! Your survival may not go down in the history books but the results of it most certainly will! Eat boy, eat, you look dead on your feet. Now, tell me, how is Ivar?"_

_So Uhtred described Ivar in as much detail as he could manage, from the relentless insults to the off-handed promotion. He even described the mans attitude towards Thorsson, which made Tobias laugh._

"_Ah yes, Ivar always did have a problem with authority. He used to say there were two ways of doing things, his way and the wrong way. I remember after Kvatch, we were watching the hero of Kvatch walk back down the hillside. You know of him? The man who went into oblivion itself, closed the gate, then helped rid the city of the Daedra? Well me and Ivar were watching him walk away and Ivar said to me, he said 'He did well, but he holds his sword like a bottle of wine.' Typical Ivar! He sees a hero and finds a fault. Never content that man, never content! But he always was a good judge of men." here Tobias grinned at Uhtred, who smiled back. He wasn't used to such blatant flattery._

"_So lad!" boomed Tobias, draining his goblet "Ive been told to offer you a position in the watch but I advise you to decline, it's a boring life and they'll make you move out of here and into the barracks. What I recommend is that you go to the arena and speak to the blademaster, tell him I sent you for some training. Don't worry, you wont have to fight if you don't want to! Ill walk you there actually, im not on duty for a while yet. Come!"_

_So Uhtred, his spirits considerably lifted, thanked Ella and followed Tobias out into the grey street. "So who's this blademaster?" asked Uhtred "And what's the arena?" Tobias laughed._

"_Never been to the city before then? Pity you had to make your first visit now, it used to be much better. The arena is a… well, its an arena! Gladiators fight for money there, and you wont find a more bloodthirsty bunch in all Tamriel! Good fighters though, Akatosh help anybody who tries to attack the city while they're here. And the blademaster, Oweyn, is the man who trains and manages them, he trained the champion of Cyrodiil once you know!"_

_All this time Uhtred was led through curved streets and large wooden doors, with Tobias chatting all the way. The man seemed like a genuinely pleasant person, and when they reached the arena, he made it very clear to the blademaster that if there were any complaints from Uhtred, then Oweyn would have him to answer to. He bade Uhtred goodbye and said he would see him tomorrow for breakfast, then left._

_Oweyn stepped up to Uhtred and inspected him. "Ok." he said "Well, Mr Thorn might like you, but I don't. To me, you're just another jumped up barbarian who needs to be put into line if you're going to be useful for anything. See that dummy over there?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Good, at least you're not blind. I want you to use that sword of yours, if you know which end to hold, to chop the arm off. Go on then."_

_Oweyn, it transpired, was an excellent trainer. While not as effective at producing anger as Ivar had been, he was capable of forcing Uhtred to do more than he could. Even when Uhtred was tired to the point of collapse, Oweyn would coax another blow out of him. Every day he pushed Uhtred further and further, teaching him not only how to handle the massive claymore but how to use its unwieldy nature to his advantage. As Oweyn repeated, a claymore was not a weapon for neat cuts and controlled stabs, it was a weapon for vicious chops and hacks. Accuracy came second to power, and power came above everything else. _

_Uhtred was almost able to forget Bruma during those few days. He would rise in the morning to Ella's huge smile, breakfast with the consistently jovial Tobias, and then head to the arena for Oweyn's ministrations. In the evenings he would return to his bed, too exhausted to do anything more than grin weakly to Ella. _

_More than once he was given the opportunity to fight in the arena against gladiators, but every time he declined. Risking his life for Bruma was fine, but risking his life for money was something completely different. Clearly Oweyn had told Tobias of this because one morning, as they breakfasted, Tobias said to Uhtred; "Uhtred lad, how goes the training?"_

"_Well, very well. Thanks for sending me along."_

"_Least I could do boy, least I could do. But I wonder, is it time you bloodied your new sword? After all, a wooden dummy can only teach you so much."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well its just a thought, but ive been told that today I have to head down to the waterfront, it seems a group of pirates have landed there and they're playing merry hell with commerce. I was told to take some legionnaires, but I think they deserve a day off. You could come instead, show me why Ivar made you a sergeant."_

_Uhtred understood the meaning behind these words. He was being given a chance to prove himself, to show Tobias that it wasn't just luck that saw him through the battle. If he declined, he would be letting himself and Ivar down. If Ivar still lived. So he nodded and grinned his acceptance of the challenge._

"_Good boy, good boy!" boomed the captain, pushing a bottle of mead towards him "No doubt you'll tear through them like sacking, and ill be able to tell my superiors that their allies in Bruma are every bit as tough as I say they are. Ill also," he lowered his voice for the first time since Uhtred had met him "Be able to tell young Ella that you're every bit as tough as you look."_

_Uhtred blushed at this, and Tobias laughed before leading him out into the street and down to the waterfront district, where the pirates were clearly identified. There were three of them visible, dressed in rags with long, curved swords at their waists. Uhtred reached back for his sword. _

"_Not yet lad, not yet" grinned Tobias "wait till we get close, and they see how big you are."_

_So Uhtred waited, and they walked until they were at the end of the quay. Tobias was of course very conspicuous in his garish armour, and the pirates had turned to look, as if daring the pair to come any closer._

"_Well Uhtred, this is your show boy. Ill wait here, if it looks like things are getting tricky for you I'll wander in and help, but somehow I don't think you'll need that. Make me proud lad."_

_Uhtred pulled his sword from his back and walked slowly towards the trio. His shield was, as usual, slung over his shoulder to protect his back, and his chain mail shone in the morning sun. It was time for the second deadly fight of his life._

_He stopped walking a few metres from the pirates and swung his sword as Oweyn had showed him. The blade whirled around and around, singing softly as it cut through the air. The pirates looked wary, it seemed that none of them wanted to be the first to come within the reach of the great sword._

_So Uhtred advanced again, still swinging the sword over his head, and the pirates stood their ground, unaware that the claymore was gaining more momentum with each swing. The first hit would be completely and utterly lethal. _

_And it was, for when one of the trio dared to move forwards, Uhtred chopped downwards at him with enormous force. The man tried to parry with his cutlass, but it was shattered as the claymore swung down, splitting the mans head in two and carrying on downwards until it lay embedded in the mans chest. Uhtred put his foot on the mangled corpse and wrenched the blade free, and the other two pirates charged._

_The first lunged at Uhtred's exposed ribs, but he twisted to the side and the pirates blade merely glanced off the chain mail before Uhtred kicked out at his leg, catching the man off balance and sending him to the floor. The second pirate swung for Uhtred's head but had his blow parried, before his belly was opened by a backhanded swing. Without stopping the swing, Uhtred brought the sword around and took both the legs off the first pirate, then stabbed downwards at the mans head. It was then that he heard applause behind him, and turned to see Tobias clapping and whooping joyfully. Uhtred picked up one of the cutlasses, slipped it into his belt, and walked back along the quay to where the captain of the guard stood grinning. _

"_Well lad, I think that proves your worth. By Akatosh, but you're a savage one! No wonder you survived that battle! There ain't a scratch on you! Come, come, let me lunch you, you must be hungry!"_

_Uhtred laughed. "Toby, we had breakfast about half an hour ago."_

"_That long? No wonder im feeling weak! Not as weak as those three though, ha! Come, we'll go to the barracks. Ill introduce you around."_

_When they got inside the barracks it was surprisingly empty, which seemed not to bother Tobias, who merely headed right for a large room on the upper stories that contained a dining table piled high with food. Sitting at this table were two men who both wearing similar armour to Tobias, and who turned as the pair entered. Tobias saluted one, waved at the other, then hung his crested helmet up on a hook and gestured Uhtred to sit. However, when Uhtred did sit, the man Tobias had saluted stood and looked at him. "Don't you know, boy?" he said in a stern tone "That its customary to salute a superior officer?"_

_Uhtred, without thinking, replied "you're an officer?" and looked over the mans shoulder to see Tobias coughing violently and the other captain biting his knuckle hard. The officer spoke again. _

"_Yes boy, im an officer. And I didn't become an officer so some long haired barbarian could give me cheek!"_

_Uhtred decided that at this point, it would be preferable to stand his ground. For one thing he always enjoyed annoying people, and for another this man looked like he needed taking down a peg or two. So Uhtred decided to be more cheeky._

"_Why did you become an officer then?" he asked innocently. In the background he could see Tobias grinning widely, and the other captain tremble-jawed with determination to keep a straight face. "Because!" shouted the officer, "Somebody needs to keep things like you in line!"_

"_I know that." said Uhtred "But why did they pick you?"_

_Tobias could be seen shaking with suppressed mirth, leaning on the other captain for support. For his part, the other captain was covering his mouth, his eyes clenched tight shut. As the pair got more and more amused, the officer got more and more angry, even though he couldn't yet see how much his men were laughing behind his back. _

"_They picked me!" he said, glaring at Uhtred with undisguised anger "because I know how to deal with people like you, who's your commander?"_

"_Who? Oh, my commander! Ivar. From Bruma."_

"_From WHERE?"_

"_Bruma. Big town up north. Take a right at the end of the bridge…"_

_Tobias suddenly excused himself, and the remaining captain was holding his ribs and biting his lip. The officer gave Uhtred one last look of pure malice, then turned and left the room without another word. There was silence for a few seconds, then Tobias was heard howling with laughter outside the door. This set the other captain off and soon Uhtred was laughing too as Tobias staggered back into the room, his face a deep scarlet. The three gradually calmed down until Tobias was able to introduce the two._

"_Uhtred, this is captain Brice. Mr Brice, this is Uhtred." The pair shook hands and Brice grinned. "Nice to meet you, Uhtred. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to go and do the rounds. Every criminal in the city seems to be having a go nowadays, I had to lock three up yesterday for trying to rob the feed bag, of all places. Thank you for the entertainment, Uhtred, ive been waiting for somebody to annoy him like that for quite a while."_

_So saying, he left, and Tobias began to speak. "Ah, a good man if ever there was one. He wasn't at Kvatch, mind, but then again not many were. That's something you'll find out about Kvatch veterans, there aren't many of us but we ain't half proud!"_

"_How many are there?"_

"_Well, when Ivar and me left the place there were two of the Kvatch guards, the champion of Cyrodiil of course, and another legionnaire. So, about seven."_

"_And how many are left?"_

"_Ooh, well there's me and Ivar, obviously. The other legionnaire with us got an arrow through his neck when the Daedra attacked the city, unfortunately. Quite a shock, that. The champion, nobody knows what happened to him but its reckoned he's dead. One of the Kvatch guards died in the battle of Bruma, and another was killed by a minotaur on the roads, which is damn bad luck. Great galloping goblins! That means me and Ivar are the only ones left! Fancy that…"_

_Uhtred wasn't quite sure what to say. Part of him wanted to know more about the battle, but he thought it might be rude to ask. So he occupied himself with a bottle of mead, and Tobias spoke again._

"_What a day, Uhtred, what a day! Ive never seen the like since… a whole city in flames, guards fighting like daemons against the Daedra, the champion of Cyrodiil cutting down the enemy like a farmer cutting wheat… what a day." He stayed silent for the first time since Uhtred had met him, then looked over at his chest._

"_I wonder, Uhtred… yes, perhaps… you see, I think Ivar had more than one reason for giving you that shield. it's a good shield, yes, but see… I was there when he picked it up, and it came from the body of a guard, a man who had died fighting no less than a dozen Daedra. Ivar said then that there lay a man who knew when to stop, but knew his duty to his comrades better. Perhaps Ivar thought that, by rescuing your friend Egbert, you had showed the same kind of attitude."_

_Now Uhtred was completely lost for words, and merely nodded. _


	2. Chapter 2

"So with that in mind!" boomed Tobias, seemingly back to his usual and slightly overbearing self and gesturing with a load of bread "I think I may have something for you.", He walked over to his chest and wrenched it open, and was soon rooting around inside, muttering to himself as he pulled out an assortment of daggers, wine, clothes and food. Every so often he would take a second to look at something as if surprised that it was there, but most of the items were simply tossed on the floor. Uhtred was intrigued by one of the daggers, a small black and gold knife that shone red when Tobias touched it, but before he could observe it further the captain stood with a cry of triumph, waving a black and white object above his head, before tossing it to Uhtred, who failed to catch it.

When he picked it up from the floor he saw it was a hauberk like the Bruma guards wore, but instead of yellow with a black eagle on the front it was white, with a black wolves head on it like the one on his shield. He looked at Tobias, who grinned. "Put it on lad, put it on! Let me help you…"

So Uhtred pulled the hauberk over his head and Tobias fastened the straps on the side, tightening them so that the leather and cloth armour sat snugly on top of Uhtred mail coat. It was then that Uhtred saw that while the Bruma hauberks had been little more than tunics with plate metal sleeves, this one was much longer. It reached halfway down his shin, and had a wide slit up the front to allow his legs more freedom of movement. It was an armoured robe, and when Tobias stood back and looked Uhtred up and down, he grinned widely. "Uhtred the wolf, eh? Ha! Uhtred the wolf indeed! Well, what are you waiting for lad? Go show Ella the new, improved barbarian!"

So Uhtred walked speedily towards the Tiber Septim hotel, feeling immensely proud. No longer was he Uhtred piss-flaps in sack cloth with a rusty old shield. He was Uhtred the Wolf, in shining mail, with a sword the height of an Altmer. He swaggered down the streets, grinning at everybody who stared and winking at some of the prettier girls, most of whom smiled back at him. It was almost a dream come true, except that when he was a boy digging potatoes and ploughing the fields he had never dared dream of anything like this. It was with the worlds biggest grin that he walked through the Tiber Septim's doors and saw Ella tidying up the counter in her usual hyperactive manner. He walked up to her quickly, not a shred of nervousness in his heart, and when she turned he wrapped her in an enormous bear hug, lifting her off the ground as she squealed in surprise. When he put her down again, she looked into his face and nearly burst a blood vessel.

"Uhtred! I didn't recognise you, where did you get the new clothes? Did Mr Thorn give them to you? You look incredible! And I heard about the pirates, im so impressed! Are you hungry? You must be! Stay here, ill get you some food, don't go anywhere, have a seat!"

Before Uhtred could say a word she went off at a canter, her hair bobbing around and her skirts flapping, leaving him slightly dazed. She was impressed about the pirates, was she? So Tobias had been right. Uhtred sat down at his usual table, mulling the fight over in his head. When he thought about it, the training had done its part but there was something else there. Some deep rooted instinct that had told him when to cut and how to kill, some subconscious Ivar gripping his hands and guiding them, directing his strength so that it could do more damage than he could have hoped for. The training had taught him where to hit, but instinct told him when.

Suddenly, his train of thought was derailed by the arrival of a large plate of meat and a bottle of mead, accompanied by Ella. Uhtred, thinking about the two meals he had already eaten today, invited her to sit. To his disappointment, she shook her head. "I think there's still something I need to do, do you mind?"

"Of course not, go ahead." he answered, expecting her to trot off to the cellar or the kitchen, but instead she walked around behind him and started lifting his hair at the back.

"You look like a warrior now!" she said "But you need warriors hair, oh yes. If there's one thing wrong with you Nords, its that you don't know how to control your hair." she giggled and began, with some difficulty, to untangle Uhtred's blond mane, laying it flat over his back and smoothing it down. As he ate she continued to adjust it, occasionally giggling or tutting, and by the time he had polished off the last mutton chop she had stepped back to admire her handiwork. Uhtred groped at the back of his head to discern what she had done, and found a single long, wide plait that reached down past his shoulder blades. He saw Ella bobbing on her heels awaiting his verdict, and grinned to her. She clapped. "Oh, its like having a doll again! Except he can talk to me and I can cook for him! What are you going to do now?"

Uhtred considered his options. He couldn't be bothered going for more training, he had decided that there was no need for any more swordplay today. Then again, there was little to do in the hotel, and he had just got an idea.

"You don't fancy showing me around the city, do you?" he asked Ella, a hopeful grin on his face. She beamed.

"Oh id love to! Would you like to go now? Ill just go and tell the manager im not feeling well! Wait here!"

Soon the pair were out in the streets, and Uhtred was wondering why he had never thought to explore before. It was the perfect excuse for some time with Ella.

She showed him everything about the city. From the Temple district with its one hundred foot high dragon statue, where they met Alessia Ottus who Uhtred delighted in berating for her Guide to Bruma, to the Elven gardens where she spent a long time introducing him to all her friends. They promenaded the waterfront, with its run down shacks and shady characters, and they browsed the shops in the market district.

Uhtred, for his part, was glad he had Ella with him. There was something about walking the streets of the biggest city in Cyrodiil with a bouncy, chatty Elf that made him feel incredibly lucky. Ella was feeling similarly lucky. She was walking around with an enormous Nord warrior, clad in wargear, who made her feel incredibly safe and constantly amused her by scaring any other guy who looked at her.

As the day drew to an end they went to the barracks to visit Tobias, who greeted them both jovially and embarrassed them both hugely by constantly mentioning what a good couple they would make. He took them both on a tour of the prison, where he had a competition with Uhtred to see who could sneak past the jailer and into the cell block without getting caught. Uhtred got as far as the door, but his mail boots slipped on the stone floor and he fell in a huge commotion of clanging and swearing, which made Tobias laugh until he almost fell over, before telling the jailer that it was all right and he needn't arrest Uhtred.

When Tobias' turn came he amazed Uhtred by not only sneaking past the jailer, but getting through the doors and coming back with the guards mug, which he gave to Ella as a present before offering to take them both to catch a show at the arena. "Nothing like a good fight to the death to round off an afternoon!" he said happily, and bullied Oweyn into showing them the contestants before the fight. Then he handed Uhtred fifty septims. "Pick your man, Uhtred! If he wins, you can keep your winnings. If he loses," he lowered his voice "You have to try and kiss Ella." he grinned mischievously and Uhtred, thinking that he would win either way, agreed and picked an enormous Orc, not unlike the one he had killed in his first battle. Tobias bet on the other gladiator - an Argonian with a bow -, led the way to the stands, and the fight began.

It became obvious that while the Argonian was quicker and nimbler, the Orc wasn't going to be killed by a few arrows. There was a point early on when the Argonian managed to hit his opponent in the chest, knocking him to the ground and making Tobias shout in triumph, but the Orc was up again in an instant, charging at the Argonian and waving an enormous axe. The Argonian only just avoided a huge swing that would have cut him in half and fired another arrow, this time at the Orc's head. The Orc blocked it with his axe, and charged again. Uhtred knew that if the Orc didn't kill soon, he would become tired and die quickly.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, the Orc seemed to go berserk. He ran at his opponent, swinging wildly, and the Argonian just barely fended off the blows with his bow. Tobias swore, Uhtred cheered, Ella gasped, and the Argonian was losing. The Orc spun in a circle and brought his axe crashing down, knocking the Argonian's bow clean out of his grip. Seconds later the Argonian was on the ground, blood gushing out of an enormous gash in his guts. The Orc then removed his head at the neck and kicked it hard back down the tunnel into the yellow teams training room. It was over and Uhtred, for the first time in his life, had money.

When they left the arena Tobias, still damning all Orc's and criticizing the rules of the Arena, bade Uhtred and Ella goodnight and headed back to the barracks. Uhtred walked Ella back to the Tiber Septim, and decided to give Tobias something to laugh about. So in that terrifying moment that everybody knows, when the goodnights have been said and neither person knows what to say next, he hugged Ella and planted a large kiss on her cheek.

It could have gone down worse. She giggled, blushed, and ran down the stairs to her bed. Seven out of ten thought Uhtred, and then made for his room where he spent a good hour wondering at his good luck. A month ago he was a farmers son, who would do nothing but farm until he died. Now he was a warrior, Uhtred the Wolf, with a pretty Elf who didn't mind him kissing her, and a guard captain as a kind of benevolent uncle. Instead of a dingy cottage he lived in a posh hotel, and instead of ale and bread he lived on mead and meat. And he had money. He had nothing to complain about at all.

The next morning, after a slightly awkward conversation with Ella when she woke him up and a hearty breakfast with Tobias - who laughed hugely at Uhtred's account of the previous nights kiss - he did something he had never done before. He went shopping.

The market district had four shops devoted to weapons and armour, and Uhtred browsed them all, not entirely sure what he wanted. A dagger or shortsword would be nice, but so would a helmet. But only if he found one he really liked. 'The Best Defence' had a good selection of helmets, but they were all identical, and were merely functional. Uhtred wanted one that would strike fear into any man who faced him.

So he headed for 'Slash n' Smash', where the shopkeeper examined his claymore and offered him a matching battleaxe, but Uhtred declined. Then he had an idea, and asked the shopkeeper if he would make a helmet.

"Depends." grunted the Orc, looking expectantly at the pouch on Uhtred's belt. Uhtred sighed and opened it, showing the gold.

"What you want?"

"Eye loops. Like on Orcish helmets." Uhtred said, "And made of steel."

"Steel? Hah! Cant get enough, not soon."

"Well… how about I buy a steel helmet, could you attach eye loops to it?"

The shopkeeper thought. "Ok. I think I can do better than that though, how much do you have?"

"A hundred."

"Lets see… steel helmet is fifty… ok, for a hundred I can make you a helmet with eye loops, engraving, and a plume."

"Plume? Isn't that a bit… imperial?" asked Uhtred, and the shopkeeper laughed.

"Let me show you." he beckoned Uhtred down the stairs into the basement, and pulled open a crate. Inside were bundles of horse hair; brown, white and black. "Ill give you a black and white one." said the Orc. Uhtred shook his head.

"Could you fix it to my sword hilt instead?"

"I can do that. Leave the sword here, come back in two hours. Bring the money."

So Uhtred left, feeling slightly naked without the weight of the huge sword on his back. What could he do for two hours? He decided to have a walk down to the pirate ship on the waterfront to see if there was anything he could use, but his hopes weren't high. Anything of any value would have been taken the previous night. Nevertheless, it was something to do.

So he found himself standing on the quay, surrounded by shady looking characters and feeling slightly uncomfortable without his sword. Before he even got to the ship, there was a problem. A tall Redguard accosted him near the archway to the island, and at the same time he heard feet on the cobbles behind him. The Redguard spoke.

"Nice clothes."

"Thank you." said Uhtred, moving to walk past. The Redguard blocked his path.

"I like those clothes. I think you should give them to me so I don't have to take them."

Uhtred was no stranger to this kind of crime. It happened in Bruma every now and then, and once or twice Uhtred had been cornered by muggers and made to hand over whatever he was carrying. But back then he had been a farm boy, humble and withdrawn. Now he was a warrior and had pride to defend, not to mention that his confidence had been boosted hugely by his training and experience. So he said the only thing he could think of.

"I think you should get out of my way, and go home." The Redguard laughed at this, and Uhtred felt a dagger pushing at the back of his hauberk, threatening to end his life in a second. He reacted immediately.

First he kicked his leg out backwards and felt it connect, hard, with whoever was behind him. Then he punched the Redguard on the jaw and spun around fast, grabbing the hand holding the dagger and twisting it back and to the side, hearing a sickening crunching sound. The third mugger pulled out another dagger and slashed wildly at Uhtred's face, trying to blind him. Uhtred grabbed the muggers arm and turned around, hauling the man over his shoulder and throwing him to the floor, before breaking the arm he was still holding with a swift kick. A stamp on the muggers face made sure that the man was not getting up again.

So Uhtred turned his attention back to the Redguard who was bent over picking up one of the daggers on the floor, leaving his ribs exposed to an incredible kick from Uhtred. Of the three muggers one was unconscious with blood dribbling from his head where Uhtred had stamped on him, the second was whimpering and holding his crotch with a bloodied and mangled hand, and the redguard was on the floor holding his ribs, gasping for air through a bleeding mouth. Uhtred stooped and picked up the two daggers, examining them. One was mere iron, a metal that Uhtred now thought of as below him. The other, however, was a thing of beauty excellently forged out of steel, with a deep crimson grip and a wickedly sharp point. Uhtred strapped it to the back of his belt, and heard laughter behind him.

He turned to see captain Brice, the man who Tobias had introduced him to, doubled over with laughter and leaning on his war hammer for support. Uhtred merely stood, feeling slightly confused and a bit offended that the man was laughing at him. He almost shouted a challenge but remembered that this man was a friend of Tobias, and therefore to be treated with more courtesy than most. Captain Brice finally got a hold of himself and walked to where the three muggers lay, still chuckling.

"Three muggers with daggers attack a single unarmed man, and they end up getting robbed!" he said, and began laughing again. Uhtred joined in this time, and the two stopped only when the Redguard made to stand again, only to get captain Brice's steel boot in his head. Brice looked at Uhtred. "Fancy coming with me to the prison and picking up the bounty?"

"Bounty?"

"Yep. Lets see… how much money do you have?"

"A hundred…"

"Ok, so that's a hundred, plus whatever your clothes are worth. Well, they're priceless, so lets say another hundred. That's two hundred for theft, each. Forty for assault, each. Six hundred and… no, seven hundred and twenty. And ill let you keep the dagger."

Uhtred nearly collapsed. Seven hundred and twenty? That was more money than his parents had ever had, more money than he had ever thought he would get. "What in the name of Ismir am I going to spend seven hundred and twenty septims on?"

Captain Brice grinned. "Well that's up to you. A new pair of boots might be good for you, some good solid steel ones. And maybe a helmet?"

"Im already getting a helmet made, that's why im down here in the first place. Killing time while I wait."

"Ok, so a pair of boots… maybe get your kit cleaned and repaired? Some regular clothes perhaps? You'll find something, im sure. Now come on you three unfortunates, lets get you somewhere nice and safe to sleep. Nowhere safer than a jail cell is there? Well, unless you're Valen Dreth…" he said, hauling the big Redguard onto his shoulder as Uhtred dragged the other two by their feet.

"Who was Valen Dreth?" he asked Brice as they carried and dragged the captives along the quay.

"Valen Dreth was a Dunmer we had in the prison once. Nasty character, all pride and spleen. We found him one day, a few weeks before he was due to be released actually, dead in his cell with an arrow in his head. Nobody knows what happened."

"Someone killed him?"

"Must have done, but nobody can understand how. Cell lock was fine, the guard didn't see a thing, nobody heard anything." the captain shrugged "Just one of those things, I suppose. I didn't like him much anyway."

The pair continued to make small talk until they reached the jail, where they deposited the three criminals with the guards and captain Brice made for the watch offices. Inside was another captain, a tall and grim looking man with no hair and a huge beard, who was scribbling onto bits of parchment and looking annoyed at the invasion of his office.

"What is it, Brice?" he said "And who's that?"

"This," said captain Brice loudly "Is Uhtred the Wolf, of Bruma. He's here to claim a bounty."

"How much?"

"Seven hundred and twenty. Three muggers from the waterfront, all of whom are now unconscious."

"You didn't kill them?"

"I didn't fight them, it was Uhtred the Wolf."

"Ok, so Uhtred, what exactly…" started the bearded man, but captain Brice cut him off.

"Uhtred the Wolf."

"Ok, Uhtred the Wolf, how exactly did this happen?" Uhtred told him, Brice backed the story up, and soon Uhtred was back in the market district, with over eight hundred septims. First he followed Brice's advice and bought a good pair of steel boots, then he made for 'Slash n' Smash' to pick up his helmet and sword.

Both of which looked magnificent. The sword, with its long horsehair tassel, looked even larger. And the helmet was nothing short of terrifying. Its eye loops looked sinister and dark, and on each side was engraved a snarling pair of jaws. Uhtred loved it, and tipped the shopkeeper an extra five septims before asking if there was somewhere that would repair and clean his weapons and armour. "Course there is!" growled the Orc, as if Uhtred was the one person in the world who didn't know. "Mages guild! They'll do it for a price, and if you ask nicely they'll even enchant it."

Uhtred got directions to the Arcane University and made his way there with no little feeling of apprehension. He remembered what had happened to the mages guild in Bruma, and since that day he had been suspicious about the use of magic. Unreliable, he though. Unreliable, unpredictable and much too easy to lose control of. But, he said to himself, he was only going to get his kit cleaned and mended. What could go wrong?

Nevertheless, he was fairly tense as he waited in the foyer. What if the spell went wrong and killed him, or destroyed the armour that Ivar and Tobias had so generously given him? No, he told himself, its fine, they know what they're doing.

And they did, to his surprise and relief. Twenty minutes later he was standing out in the street at the top of the steps, his helmet shining like silver, his hauberk gleaming white, and every bit of it in perfect condition. His boots were like mirrors, his sword looked like it was made of sunlight rather than steel, and his shield was dent free and perfect. As he walked down the street people turned their heads to look at the tall, broad warrior, with only his mouth showing. He looked and felt invincible.

He was sitting in his room in the Tiber Septim the next day when he heard voices downstairs, then feet on the staircase, before Ella and Tobias both burst into his room. Uhtred, in a state of undress, clasped his hands to his crotch and yelled, almost toppling off the bed. Tobias caught him and spoke dramatically.

"So, Uhtred the Wolf. Today's the day."

"What day?"

"The day we start to take back Cyrodiil. The day we beat the marauders. The day we win."

"What? What's happening?" asked Uhtred, confused.

"We saw them!" said Tobias, gesturing "Marching this way. They'll try and take the city, and we'll chop them up and spread them over the ground like butter on bread. Get dressed, have breakfast, and meet me at white gold tower in twenty minutes. We'll show them, by Akatosh. We'll show them."

So saying, Tobias walked out of the room, leaving Ella and Uhtred together. All Uhtred could think as he stared at the small Elf's face was that he had to win. Not for himself, not for the Imperium, but for her life. For her freedom, and for her heart. Nothing could be allowed to happen to her.

"Do you want me to help you get ready?" she asked, snapping him out of his musings.

"Err… Yes, please."

He stood and pulled on his greaves and boots, before Ella helped him to slip his mail coat over his head. She then did up the straps on his hauberk, and he noticed her hands were shaking slightly. So he took them in his, smiled at her, and tried to think of a way to tell her what he was thinking without saying the most feared word of them all. He couldn't think of anything though, his mind was working too hard, and anything he tried to say got caught in his throat. Then she turned and picked up his shield. The moment was gone.

All he wanted to do now was be away. Being around her now was too painful, too distracting. He had to be away, to be thinking about more important things. If there were any.

So he slung his shield onto his back pulled his helmet on and picked up his sword. Then he smiled at Ella one more time, and left the room without a word. He didn't stop running until he got to white gold tower.

Tobias was waiting, clad in his magnificent captains armour. On one of his arms was a shield, and on his belt was a sword made out of what looked like silver. He was also wearing a helmet, and a long white cloak that reached to his ankles.

"You'll be in my division." he said as Uhtred approached "Right behind me. We're near the front of the column, which means we'll be right on the front of the line. I hope you made your peace with Ella."

Uhtred shook his head "There'll be plenty of time for that." he muttered, earning a smile from Tobias. "Of course there will lad! Be back here in time for dinner. Follow me."

The streets the pair walked through were crammed with citizens. Some smiled, some cheered, some even shouted advice. But most stayed silent, awed by the sight of the whole amassed power of the Imperium.

Almost every guardsman in the city was leaving, and they stood in swarms, comparing weapons and tightening bowstrings. Here and there a guard captain in shining silver and gold could be seen, and near the front were the gladiators.

Tobias had been right, Uhtred thought. They were indeed a force to be reckoned with. Each one made a career out of fighting for his or her life, and the reason they were still alive was that they were the best. They wore arena raiment's, and were headed by the grand champion in his red and gold. Of all the people going out to fight they looked the most eager, like starving hounds in a cage surrounded by rabbits.

The order came to form column, and Uhtred fell in with the rest of Tobias' division. They were typical guardsmen, sullen and silent in their brown armour and pointed helmets. None of them spoke, which let Uhtred concentrate his thoughts on Ella as he marched out of the city and across the bridge.

The march wasn't long. The marauders were waiting at the crossroads, and Uhtred wondered if they were the same group he had fought against before. He didn't know how to tell, and merely took his place in the unfolding battle line. He almost drew his sword, but noticed that nobody else had yet. So he stood and stared at the enemy wondering which one, if any of them, would kill him.

As he stared, the fear came onto him again. It was less acute than the last time, more of a dull ache than an all-embracing pain, but it was still enough. Only the sight of the unmoving Tobias in front of him kept him steady and focused. He felt a sudden, burning desire to impress the man, to show the whole of Cyrodiil that he wasn't just a farmers son who had been pressed into a militia and survived out of luck. Uhtred the farmer had died in his first battle, and now Uhtred the Wolf would be reborn in his second.

But not if the battle never started. For some reason the marauders weren't charging, and Uhtred couldn't think why. For a long time the two armies simply stared at each other over the short distance between the lines, and nobody made a sound. It was a silence louder than any battle.

Suddenly, there came a huge explosion from behind the line, and Uhtred turned to see the gatehouse of the Imperial city fall apart completely. It dawned on him immediately.

The force outside the city had never meant to attack, he realised, simply to draw out the defenders so the real attack could come the way the first had - through the sewers. And the defending army was hoodwinked. To fight the force before them would spell the end of the city, but to turn and head for the city would mean an attack from behind which would lead to enormous slaughter. It was too late to win.

So Uhtred decided to lose. Reaching backwards he pulled his sword off his back and held it high above his head, before letting out a fierce battle cry. Then he walked steadily forwards, oblivious to the shouts behind him, picking up speed steadily until he was right in front of the marauders line. Not one of them moved, so he began to taunt them, calling them whore-ridden piss buckets, worthless mongrels, cowardly scumbags who were only good for dying. He shouted challenges at them and hurled abuse, pointing his sword at the biggest ones he could see and daring them to come and die. One, a Nord with a longsword and shield, stepped forwards. He lunged as quick as a cat, but Uhtred had been expecting it and dodged to the side, letting the marauder charge past him before bringing his sword down onto the back of the mans neck, sending him crumpling to the floor in a shower of blood and clatter of armour.

It was completely silent now. Both sides knew that battle was seconds away, and slaughter would be the result. But for which side?

It was Tobias who broke the silence. "My division, stand fast!" he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear "We're covering the retreat!"

Uhtred backed up until he was next to Tobias, gripping his sword tight and feeling sweat soak his forehead under his helmet. This was it. Covering the retreat would mean certain death, but it would also mean a name, and that Ella would stand a chance. If she still lived.

This last thought pushed Uhtred to the edge. Most of the retreating force was halfway across the bridge, but there were some who had just stepped onto it. Uhtred didn't care. The marauders meant to harm Ella, so he would harm them. He shouted a long, drawn out cry of pure rage, angled his sword like a spear, and ran at the marauders. He heard Tobias shouting behind him, but didn't stop until he crashed into the enemy lines, knocking men over and cutting a head off in a single blow.

Uhtred set to work. He chopped, he hacked, he swung and he slashed, spinning like a maniac in full circles to keep the enemy at bay. He simply swung his sword and let the momentum carry him around, trying desperately not to become dizzy. Every so often he would feel some resistance to the blade when a sword or limb got in its way, but the blade didn't stop.

Eventually he began to get tired, and decided to draw the enemy backwards. He had no idea how many he was fighting or how many had made a charge for the bridge, all he knew was that he had to kill as many as possible before he died. So he backed away from the line, swinging his sword in great semicircles in front of him, waiting for an enemy to come close enough.

One of them did, immediately got the sword in the side of his head, and died instantly. Another threw an axe at him, but Uhtred turned quickly so the weapon thudded into his shield. Was Tobias still alive? Had the city fallen? He had no idea. All that his world consisted of was anything within reach of his sword, nothing more. Life and death, blood and pain was all he knew. Even Ella had left his mind by now.

After several minutes of fighting, killing and shouting the adrenaline began to wear off and Uhtred became more aware of his surroundings. He was facing a group of maybe ten marauders, and behind them was the bridge, on which hundreds of men were fighting in a vicious meat grinder. Men ran in, were chopped up and then spat out, falling into the lake or being trampled underfoot. It was impossible to tell who was winning.

So Uhtred fought on and on, killing another three marauders who were brave enough to come within reach of the great claymore. One of them had tried to block the blade with a shield, but the shield had been hit with such force that it had splintered and the mans arm had shattered before his guts were spilled onto the grass.

The last thing Uhtred saw was a marauder moving towards him with a longsword before he felt a huge pain in the back of his head, and the world went black.

He woke as it was getting dark. The pain in his head was excruciating, as were several other injuries on his body. Injuries he either hadn't noticed due to adrenaline, or injuries that he had sustained while he was unconscious. He stood slowly, looking cautiously around but seeing nobody. The imperial city was dark and silent, and the bridge was thick with bodies. The battle must have been lost.

It was too dark and Uhtred was too tired to look for friends, alive or dead. He was numb. Ella must be dead by now, along with Brice and Tobias. If the battle was lost, the captains must have died before the end. Captains go down with their ships, after all. What could he do now? He had nobody.

He thought of going back to Bruma, but he couldn't face the shame. The day before he had been Uhtred the Wolf, a warrior with good friends, a pretty girl who seemed to like him, and more money than he could have dreamed of. Now he was Uhtred again. Just a Nord in bloodstained clothes and a broken helmet, with nothing to his name but a dented shield and a blood encrusted sword. He was a nobody. A nobody who had fallen in battle and left his friends to die.

So he walked south. He didn't know where he was going, or what he would do when he got there. All he knew was that he had to get as far away from it all as possible. As far away from himself as possible. His helmet, with a huge dent in the back that had split the steel all the way up one side, was under his arm. His sword and shield were on his back, but not in the proud way he had worn them before; they now hung loose and clattered against each other, and his hauberk with its wolves head on the chest was torn and smeared with blood, the loose material flapping in the wind. He was nothing like the proud warrior of yesterday. He was a penniless, injured failure.

He walked through the night, never stopping despite the pain. He knew that it wouldn't be long before he ran into a creature or bandit that would finish him off like the marauders couldn't, and then he would be free. Free from the crippling self hate that poured through his veins, tearing his proud soul apart and rearranging it into a cowering heap of shame and despair. With every step his knees felt weaker, tempting him to collapse, but he refused to let himself stop. He knew somehow that if he fell to his knees, he would never get up again.

As the sun rose, Uhtred finally stopped. The combination of pain, fatigue and despair had slowed him to a stagger, a stagger that led him to an isolated house. He had no idea where he was, except that it was somewhere well south of the imperial city. There wasn't a soul to be seen, so Uhtred opened the door and stepped inside.

There was a single room downstairs, containing a table and chairs. There was a grate, but no fire, and upstairs were a pair of beds. Without considering who these beds might belong to, Uhtred collapsed onto one of them and fell into a deep sleep, his sword in his hands.

He woke to hushed voices in the doorway and knew that there were people there, but could not bring himself to sit up or even open his eyes. So he listened.

"Must have come from Skingrad" said a mans voice.

"He's not wearing their armour though," answered a woman "what armour is that anyway?"

"I don't know, I cant tell. Fetch Agnete, she might know."

"If she's sober."

"Just go and get her."

Uhtred could hear footsteps now on the wooden floor, and a mumble of voices downstairs. There was no apparent hostility, but he felt uneasy. He was surrounded by strangers in an unknown place, and didn't have the strength to lift a finger, let alone his sword or dagger. More footsteps were coming up the stairs now, and he could hear the voices starting again. There was a third one now, another woman's, and she didn't seem to be making much effort to stay quiet.

"White you say?" she was saying. This must be Agnete, Uhtred thought.

"With a black wolves head, looks like. Too much blood on it to be sure though." said the other woman.

"Should I go closer?"

"The poor boy seems half dead. I think you'll be safe." said the man. Uhtred heard footsteps approaching, and rough hands began tugging his shield from beneath him. There was a short intake of breath.

"Kvatch!" said the woman beside him.

"Kvatch? Impossible!" scoffed the man, and Uhtred heard more footsteps coming towards him.

"Its Kvatch, I swear. Where on earth did he find these? Look, lets get him out of them. He looks wounded, he needs to breathe."

Uhtred had neither the breath, the strength or the inclination to stop the three people as they stripped him. He felt his sword taken away, his helmet removed, and his hauberk undone and was in nothing but his loincloth by the time they had finished. The man spoke again.

"He must be dead. Look at these wounds."

"If he was dead" said the unnamed woman "He wouldn't be breathing, would he? No, he's just exhausted. He needs rest."

Agnete spoke up "Look at this helmet… cracked all the way up the back. Must have been a war hammer or something… if he hadn't been wearing this, he wouldn't have a head."

"Well, lucky for him he was wearing it then. Shalen, I'll take his things away and put them somewhere safe. You go and see what medicine you can spare. Ill tell the others not to disturb him." said the man. "Agnete, you stay here and keep an eye on him."

Uhtred heard no more. He fell back into his deep sleep, and dreamed of Ella and Tobias, Ivar and Egbert, the four friends he had lost. The four people he would have died for, and the four people he had let down. Their dead faces swam in front of his eyes, mocking him and blaming him. He woke suddenly, feeling his shoulder being shaken hard. This time he opened his eyes a fraction, and saw very little. The voice of Agnete sounded in his ear.

"Sorry, you were having a nightmare or something. Go back to sleep." he did, and was woken again by somebody muttering in his ear. It was Shalen, the other woman who had helped remove his armour. "Wake up boy, ive brought you a potion. Come on, I need you to be awake, you need to drink this."

He raised his head slightly, and felt the mouth of a bottle being pushed against his lips, and cool liquid sliding down his throat. The effect was amazing. The pain from his wounds was dulled, his head became clearer, and for the first time since he had collapsed he was able to open his eyes fully.

In front of them was the face of a Dunmer woman, smiling gently and looking back into his eyes. He looked to the left and saw a woman who must have been Agnete, who to his surprise and relief was an aged Nord. He hadn't seen a Nord for weeks.

"That's better isn't it?" asked Shalen "I do like it when my potions work. Can you sit up?"

Uhtred tried, but the moment he bent his ribs he felt an agonising pain and had to lie down again. He tried to apologise, but the words seemed to stick in his throat so all he could do was gape like a fish.

"Its ok boy, its ok. Lie down, ill bring you another. We'll have you fixed in no time." Shalen said, and left the room. Uhtred looked at Agnete, who grinned at him.

"You know." she said quietly "Nobody else knows how you're still alive. These wounds, they should have killed you, especially the one on your head. I know why you're alive, but I don't have the heart to tell them. I can tell you though. Its because you're a Nord. Nord's don't die easily, you know that. You survived the fight, which means you can get better. I'd offer you some ale, but Falim told me not to."

Uhtred tried to smile, but he couldn't. Despair still had him in its icy grip, and all he could do was twitch the corners of his mouth and blink. Agnete smiled enough for both of them.

"See? You're better already. Couple more potions and you'll be dancing. Don't let go boy, keep fighting."

She was right, thought Uhtred. He hadn't survived the battle just to give in now. So gripping the side of the bed hard and clenching his jaw, he sat up. The pain was immense but he fought through it, grunting ever so slightly. Agnete clapped, and Shalen appeared in the doorway, smiling widely.

"Well done, well done!" she said "Ive got another potion for you, but it's the last I can give you for the moment. Trust me, you don't want to drink too many of these too quickly. You think you're in pain now…"

"Cheery stuff Shalen, cheery stuff." said Agnete, amused. Shalen rolled her eyes, and fed Uhtred the potion. He felt the pain lessen even more, and saw one of the cuts on his stomach close ever so slightly. He was going to live, he knew it. Shalen seemed to think so too.

"You'll be fine, you'll be fine" she smiled "And Agnete here will keep an eye on you. Just rest. Don't worry about a thing."

So Uhtred rested. Most of the time he slept, but when he was awake Agnete was always there next to him, and talked to him. He still couldn't talk, which worried him, and he found it difficult to smile. All he could do to communicate was nod or shake his head, but this didn't seem to bother Agnete. She chatted away to him about anything.

"You know, at first people thought you were from Skingrad. Do you know what happened to Skingrad? No? Well I do. I was there, see, when they broke down the gates. Marauders and bandits, tearing the city apart. The guard did their best, but we had been starved for weeks. So many dead, I only survived because I was wearing armour. They must have thought I was one of them, so I could just walk straight out of there. I wondered for days before Falim and Shalen found me and brought me here. This place is a sort of refugee camp, we've got people from Bravil, Leyawiin, Skingrad… its getting crowded, I can tell you."

Uhtred found a scrap of hope in the fact that she hadn't mentioned Bruma. If there were no refugee's from the city, perhaps it was still standing. Perhaps Ivar and Egbert may still be alive. Or maybe it had been attacked and there were no survivors.

Over the next couple of days, Agnete made pleasant company for Uhtred. In between his frequent sleeps and doses of potion from Shalen she spoke to him about anything and everything, from the best wines in Skingrad to the best tomatoes around, from her trade as a smith to the fact that when she was younger the champion of Cyrodiil had been a regular customer of hers. Her conversation kept Uhtred from his darker thoughts, and slowly but surely restored his mind until one day, after an account from Agnete of a fight between three Orks and an Argonian, he managed to smile.

"And then they took him by the tail and… Hang on, do that again."

Uhtred did it again.

"You smiled! Hey Shalen, Falim, get up here! Don't stop boy, keep doing that!"

Shalen and the man, who Uhtred realised must be Falim, ran into the room looking worried, then looked at Uhtred and laughed.

"So boy" said Falim "You're on the mend after all. I owe you a bottle of wine Agnete."

"Can you talk now?" asked Shalen "Can you? What's your name?"

Uhtred tried. The first couple of times all he could do was make a strange croaking noise, but on the third try he managed to say "Uhtred… Uhtred the… Uhtred."

Agnete whooped, and Shalen smiled. "So Uhtred!" said Falim "What happened to you?" Agnete looked annoyed at this question, and Uhtred wondered if he could face telling the tale. Shalen spoke. "You'll feel better if you get it out, Uhtred. I know you're in shock, but talking will help. Agnete, don't look at me like that, im only trying to make him better."

So Uhtred began his tale. He started with his enlistment at Bruma and told them everything from that point up until he had collapsed into the bed. At first, the only audience was his three minders, but by the time he got to the first battle a small collection of refugees had appeared to listen. When he got to the second battle there was an audience of about ten, and when he finished everybody in the house was listening to him. Shalen had been right, he did feel better. There was silence when he finished, and in the end it was Falim who spoke.

"Well at least we know what's going on. What are you going to do now, Uhtred?"

"I don't know. What should I do?"

"Well that's obvious" said Agnete "Go back to Bruma."

"Bruma?"

"Yep. You're a warrior, Uhtred."

"No im not. I lost the battle."

"So? You survived, which is more than a lot of people did. You're a warrior. This man, Captain Thorn, he called you Uhtred the Wolf. Who would you rather be, Uhtred the Wolf or Uhtred the refugee?"

"Uhtred the Wolf, but…"

"Then be Uhtred the wolf. You lot, get out. Falim, go and get Uhtred's kit. Shalen, pack him some food. Bruma needs you, Uhtred."

Uhtred knew that she was right. "But my stuff, its…"

"Broken? No it isn't. Im a smith, remember? What do you think I did while you were sleeping?"

Uhtred laughed and, for the first time in days, stood up. His wounds were now mere scars, and his weapons and armour looked as good as new when Falim brought them down. Shalen helped him dress, and as she handed him his helmet he asked; "Why don't you all come with me?"

"What?"

"I can defend you, and Agnete's right, its getting crowded. Come along."

"I cant.. There are people here we cant move, and this is safer than Bruma. This house isn't marked on any map, nobody can find it if they don't know where it is."

"Ok, it was just an idea" said Uhtred, slightly disappointed. It was a long walk to Bruma, and he didn't want to be alone. Then Agnete spoke.

"Ill come with you."

"You will?"

"Yes. I want to see Bruma again before I die, and you need somebody to look after you. Give me a few minutes to pack."

So saying, she left. Falim walked in soon afterwards, holding something. "Uhtred" he said "We Shalen's right, we cant come with you. But we want you to remember us."

"I could never forget you."

"Be that as it may, take this." he said, throwing something to Uhtred. It was a wolves tail. "Nothing like a bit of fur to give a man some class. Where's Agnete?"

"Packing."

"Packing? What, is she going with you?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Good for you! And her I suppose. Look after her, Uhtred. She's a good woman."

"I know."

Ten minutes later, Uhtred was standing outside for the first time in days with Agnete beside him. He was dressed in his armour and had fixed the wolves tail to his sword hilt after tearing off the blood matted horse hair, and Agnete was wearing leather and linen. She carried nothing more than a stout stick.

"Im too old for fighting" she grinned "So im relying on you to look after me."

Falim spoke from the doorway. "Remember you two, if they ever sort this mess out, come and tell us wont you?"

The pair assured him that they would and set off north, out of the valley and towards Bruma. They had been walking for a couple of hours before Uhtred saw a light on the road and pulled Agnete behind a rock, and there they hid and listened. Uhtred thought he heard hooves, and a slight clanking of metal armour. A marauder perhaps, but what marauder would betray his presence with a torch? They weren't as sneaky as bandits, but they still knew better than to travel on a road with a torch. Agnete sneaked a look, and before Uhtred could stop her she ran into the road.

Uhtred ran after her and saw something he hadn't expected at all. It was a legionnaire on a horse, who was looking equally surprised at seeing an old woman jump onto the road, soon joined by a tall Nord in armour. He leapt off his horse and drew his sword.

"Wait!" shouted Agnete, but before she could shout that they were friends the legionnaire lunged at her with his sword, hitting her on the thigh and cutting deep. Agnete screamed in pain and Uhtred punched the legionnaire on the side of his helmeted head, making him reel in pain and shock. This was just long enough for Uhtred to grab the hand holding the sword and twist it, making the weapon fall to the floor. This done, he grabbed the man by the throat.

"We're FRIENDS, pissant!" he shouted, shaking the legionnaire "FRIENDS, and you're fucking lucky she's alive or you'd be fucking dead. What the fuck are you doing?"

The legionnaire stammered something about patrolling.

"I know you're patrolling, knob cheese. But where from?"

"The imperial city…"

"Don't be a fucking prat. The imperial city fell."

"It didn't. They fought off the attack."

"Did they bollocks. I was there, wasn't I? I saw the gate get blown open."

"Yes, and I saw the legion fight off the attack."

Uhtred began to feel slightly stupid. There was only one way he could keep his pride now, so he let go of the legionnaire and shoved him towards his horse.

"Take us there then, fuckwit. Come on Agnete, we're going on a horse. This cunt can walk."

The legionnaire tried to argue at first, but Uhtred mentioned Tobias and the man quietened, and it wasn't until the sun was beginning to rise that Uhtred, doing his best to keep Agnete conscious, realised just how symbolic the silence was. If the legionnaire was scared of Tobias, then Tobias must be alive. Uhtred very nearly shouted a hurrah, but checked himself just in time and concentrated on keeping Agnete alive and awake. He tore off a scrap of linen from the bottom of her skirt and used it as a tourniquet, and spoke to her continually as she had spoken to him, trying to keep her focused. If her eyes closed, they might never open again.

It was mid morning when the front arch of the bridge loomed into sight and Uhtred saw the legionnaire, who was leading the horse, turn and grin triumphantly. Uhtred checked the man with a look of pure malice, and then punished him by whipping the horse into a gallop, forcing the legionnaire to run alongside in his heavy armour. When they reached the far end of the bridge, Uhtred found himself staring at a pair of brand new gates, in a rebuilt gatehouse. So it was true. It wasn't over.

The gates were opened quickly, and Uhtred was too tired and excited to wonder why. The first thing he did was call for a guard to take Agnete away and have her bandaged, and was surprised when the man did so without protest. Then he headed for the barracks, the legionnaire from the road still following him and muttering about punishment for assault. All hopes the legionnaire may have had, however, evaporated when Uhtred's arrival inside the barracks was greeted by a huge cry of joy and the sight of Tobias rising from the table and hugging the enormous Nord.

"Uhtred my boy! Uhtred! By Akatosh, you're alive! We thought we'd lost you. Come, sit, tell us what happened." He indicated a table at which two other captains were sitting, and the legionnaire spoke up.

"Sir," he said eagerly "I have to report that this man assaulted me."

"And I have to report." said Uhtred, amused at the futility of the legionnaires actions "That this man attacked an old woman, and let himself be overpowered by a single man."

"Is this true?" asked Tobias, looking at the legionnaire "Did you get overpowered by this tiny Nord?"

"Well sir, he…"

"Shameful, shameful. I'll let it slide this time, but if one more Nord gets the better of you I wont be so lenient. Off with you!"

The legionnaire left, and Tobias waited a couple of seconds before bursting into hysterical laughter. Uhtred joined in, and together the pair staggered to the table, where they sat.

"Uhtred lad." said Tobias happily "If you were anybody else, I would've let that little git have his way. But after what you did, I don't have the heart or wish to punish you."

"What I did?"

"Charging the enemy lines like that! You showed us all up, you cheeky young barbarian. There's the might of the legion massed up against a few poxy marauders, and the only person who charges at them is a young Nord who isn't even in the damn legion. There were some red faces, I can tell you. And then dying on us like that, and now coming back from the dead. What on Tamriel happened to you?"

Uhtred explained. He told how he was knocked unconscious, how he had assumed the city was lost, and how he had wandered southwards and found the refugee sanctuary. He told of the healing, the news from other parts, and the decision to go back to Bruma. When he had finished, Tobias spoke.

"Yes, we almost did lose. But some young swine messed up the enemy line so much and confused them so that we had time to send enough men back into the city to fight off the enemy in there. You should have heard Brice! 'make that boy a captain' he said 'he knows how to fight a damn battle'."

"Where's captain Brice now?"

"Six feet under, im afraid. Got an arrow in the face and a battleaxe in the neck, poor fellow. Took plenty of them with him though!"

"Im sorry."

"Don't be boy, don't be. Were it not for you, I daresay the whole city would have died." one of the other captains nodded agreement, but the other looked sceptical "Including someone who's name I know you want to say, but you're too embarrassed to. Come on boy, out with it." Tobias was grinning knowingly, and Uhtred couldn't hide it any longer. He grinned back and said,

"Ella."

"She's fine boy, fine! Well, apart from that she thinks her pet wolf is dead. Im sure she'd be very happy to see him again."

"What about Agnete?"

"Who?"

"Agnete… the woman I brought back with me."

"Mellowed Minotaurs! She's a bit old for you isn't she?"

"No, I mean, is she alright?"

"Oh, she'll be fine, fine! Probably be on her feet by this time tomorrow. Now never keep a woman waiting, Uhtred. Never know when some classy Dunmer might turn up and try to sweep her off her feet."

So Uhtred, grinning, stood up and left with as much dignity as he could muster. He kept this dignity until the moment he got out of the door, and began sprinting as fast as he could towards the Tiber Septim hotel. From behind him he heard Tobias laughing loudly, but he didn't mind.

As he skidded through the doors of the hotel, the first thing he saw was that it was empty. The woman behind the counter was gone, and Ella was nowhere to be seen. He searched around upstairs, hoping to find her cleaning a room, but had no luck. So he gingerly edged the basement door open and walked down the dingy stairs, making as much noise as possible so that if anybody was down there they couldn't accuse him of sneaking. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he found that the basement too was deserted, and he decided that things had gone from odd to downright suspicious. A hotel with no staff and the door unlocked? Something was amiss, and Uhtred was determined to find out what. He found Ella's bed behind a screen in the corner and saw that it was unmade, and the floor around it covered in clothes. So she was still living here then.

He was about to return to the ground floor when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Emerging from behind the screen, he saw something he had thought he'd never see again. It was Ella, a huge watermelon clutched in her arms, with a look of amazement on her face. As Uhtred walked towards her, grinning widely, she hurriedly and slightly clumsily put the watermelon on a nearby stool and ran at him.

The collision knocked the wind from Uhtred, but he couldn't have cared less. The pair hugged tightly, albeit awkwardly due to the size difference between them. Neither of them wanted to let go, and Uhtred, in a gesture that took more courage than standing in a battle line, kissed Ella gently on the lips. She seemed taken aback for a moment, and then relaxed into him and returned the kiss happily. They stayed that way for as long as they could before one of them had to surface for air.

Ella was full of questions, and Uhtred found himself telling his story again, this time seated on Ella's bed as she stared at him wide eyed. When he finished, she kissed him again, then reclaimed the watermelon and set about polishing and caressing it.

"What's that massive thing for anyway?" asked Uhtred, grinning.

"Oh, its Mr Thorn's birthday tomorrow, and he's always been partial to watermelon. I was going to put a candle in it." Uhtred nearly fell off the bed laughing. A birthday watermelon? His dad had been right, Imperials were very odd people.


End file.
